


By Night One Way, By Day Another

by LusciousLemon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Multiple Personalities, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LusciousLemon/pseuds/LusciousLemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumpelstiltskin quickly finds out that his new caretaker is not as shy and innocent as he first thought.  The problem?  She has no memory of it the next morning!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Just Happened?

Rumpelstiltskin removed his ancient dragon-hide jacket and carefully placed it in his magical wardrobe to be cleaned and mended. It’s not like he could go to the local seamstress and request a new one if this one became damaged; dragons were becoming scarcer by the day. If there was one thing his mother had taught him all those centuries ago, it was this; take proper care of your possessions and they will stay with you for a lifetime.

 

He now had more possessions than he knew what to do with! Years of dealing had bought him untold riches and a castle filled with…junk! Yes, junk. For who cares about trinkets when you had the world’s most powerful magic at your fingertips? He had rooms overflowing with gold spun by his very hands, bedrooms packed, not with beds, but with goblets, swords, jewels, etc…

 

By the gods he was bored!

 

He had been grooming Queen Regina for over a decade now, carefully plucking her strings and nudging her towards vengeance. She was almost ready. A couple of more years and she would be ready to cast the Dark Curse! Then finally he could be on his way to finding Bae.

 

But in the meantime, there were always deals to be struck and gold to be spun.

 

He removed the rest of his clothing with far less care and used magic to toss them in the laundry room on the other side of his castle. His new caretaker had ruined several of his shirts before she had finally mastered the task of washing silk. It was no matter; silk is easily replaced. 

 

Plus, it was always fun to secretly watch her, her blue dress drenched in hot soapy suds from head to toe, throwing a tantrum like a child when she failed at the task. Around him, however, she was calm and collected; a perfect servant. There was clearly more than one side to her.

 

Yes, he thought, sliding into his silk sheets of his four poster bed, she had been an excellent trade. Knowing he was no longer completely alone would definitely help him get through the next few years without going completely mad.

 

Creak.

 

Speaking of going mad…what was that?

 

The Dark Castle was fortified by the strongest magic ever touched by human hands. Nothing could penetrate his wards; not even mice or spiders! What in seven hells could have made that sound?

 

He lay in bed, as still as a corpse, and listened for an attack. He caught a glimpse of flickering light dancing underneath his bedroom door and a slight shadow identifying the trespasser’s feet. Poised at the ready, he raised his hand, waiting for the thief to show himself so that he may transform him into a snail or maybe a chicken for his supper.

 

He was therefore surprised when the door very slowly opened and his young caretaker slipped inside. He was a creature of the darkness and could see her quite plainly. She was a beauty of the light and had to wait for her eyes to adjust before continuing on. 

 

He remained still, not wanting to alert her that her master was indeed awake. What was she doing here? She was forbidden from entering his personal space.  
After an agonizing wait, the beauty could see well enough to make her way around the vast room. If she was here to steal from him then she would be very disappointed indeed! He kept no trinkets in his quarters. This was a place of solitude.

 

She carefully crept to the side of the massive bed. Once there, she began to slowly and meticulously remove her clothing! Too stunned to speak, Rumpelstiltskin simply watched in amazement as his caretaker stepped out of her silk nightgown and crawled under his sheets.

 

She slid gently on the silk until she was but inches away from him. His heart thundered in his chest until he could hear nothing but his own blood pumping in his ears. His breath hitched as she slid a delicate warm hand underneath the fastening of his chemise and caressed his chest with more affection than his wife Milah had shown in the decade of their marriage!

 

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she crooned, taking the tip of his ear lobe into her mouth and sucking on it. 

 

The Dark One jumped involuntarily at the gesture. No one had touched him willingly in centuries! “Belle! What are you doing, Dearie?” he managed to sputter.

 

“Relax, Rumpelstiltskin,” she mumbled, her tongue now dancing down the side of his neck. “I’m here to take care of you.”

 

She what? No, no, no, no, no! He was a monster but he would never, ever, take advantage of some poor, innocent girl! He was an imp, not a pirate!

 

“Dearie,” he began, “I don’t…” His words were lost as her hand travelled lower, and lower, down his torso, ending just where her hand met his scruffy curls. 

 

She giggled and bit her lower lip. “All right, Rumpelstiltskin, how about this? I need you to take care of me for once.”

 

She dragged her hand away and took his own cold one. He shook like a teenager as she brought it to her chest and cupped his palm around her perky breast. She squeezed his rough calloused hand tighter and moaned softly at the breast clutched in his fingers. “Please,” she whimpered.

 

He withdrew his hand away as if her nubile body had somehow burned him. “Belle,” he pleaded, “you can’t want this. You can’t want me!”

 

“But I do, Rumpelstiltskin! I’ve gone weeks now without any affection!” She suddenly straddled him, pulling his night shirt up to his belly. “If I am to never know another’s touch, can’t I at least know yours?”

 

Her hot wetness confirmed her words as she wiggled around his middle. She lovingly ran her fingers through the hair at his temples then gripped them fiercely, bringing her lips crushing to his own. Her tongue plundered his mouth deeply, running it over his jagged teeth, the roof of his mouth and sensuously caressed his own tongue. He was undone.

 

“This will hurt. You know that, right?” he panted hoarsely, wanting to give her a chance to refuse before he could no longer stop himself. 

 

“No, it won’t,” she replied huskily. She raised her hips and expertly lowered them around his throbbing member. She was drenched in her own wetness, tight as a virgin but without the barrier blocking his entry. He had never experienced anything so wonderful!

 

They moaned deeply into each other’s mouths, becoming accustomed to their joining. “Dearie, you’re not a…?”

 

“Shhh.” She interrupted his musings with another kiss. “I’m twenty six years old, Rumpelstiltskin. I may be a Princess but I am still a woman. I have needs like anyone else.”

 

She began to rock slowly, grinding his cock tightly with every thrust. She lowered herself so that she was lying on top of him, giving her access to his neck and mouth. She sucked and bit and licked and rocked and did a myriad of other things that the inexperienced Rumpelstiltskin could only describe as agonizing pleasure! 

 

With an inhuman growl he quickly spilled his seed into her. He would have been thoroughly embarrassed except that it seemed to excite her! 

 

“Oh, gods! Yes! It’s so warm!” she cried, increasing her pace to an almost inhuman speed. He rapidly found himself building up again but did not want to come a second time before she could find her own release. As a lover, he was woefully inept.

 

“Tell me what to do for you, love,” he grunted. 

 

She rose up on her knees and he almost whimpered from the loss of contact. She had been so warm and close he couldn’t bear to be apart from her. She took both of his hands, placing one on her bouncing tit as she continued to grind him. “Squeeze as hard as you can. Play with the nipples.” She then took his other hand and brought it down to her moist curls. His fingers instantly became slick from a combination of both their juices. “Feel that little nub? Rub it!”

 

He did as he was commanded, becoming more aroused at how easily he was able to pleasure her. Had Milah been more vocal in their lovemaking he might have learned what it was she desired. He quickly dismissed the thought of his dead wife from his mind. Milah was a whore. 

 

Belle was a Goddess! 

 

Rumpelstiltskin could tell she was close by the way she whimpered. Her rocking movements became more sporadic as she trembled over top of him. He removed his hands from her perfect breasts and miraculous center and placed them on her hips. He took control of her movements, thrusting his groin up while pulling her body down. Her moans cheered him on as he picked up the pace and he was thrilled to watch her furiously caress herself, bringing her own pleasure over the edge.

 

Suddenly, his cock was gripped by her clenching walls and a new warmth overtook him.

 

“Rumpelstiltskin!” she screamed, her eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy. 

 

He couldn’t contain himself any longer. He came harder than he ever had in his life, almost to the brink of pain. But it was a delicious torture that he would gladly endure for a lifetime. He stroked her back and arms soothingly, slowly bringing them both back down from their orgasms. 

 

“Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin,” she purred, giving him one last kiss. “You were wonderful.”

 

She released herself from his arms and slid silently off the bed. Donning her wrap, she picked up her remaining clothes and crept out of the bedroom.

 

What in seven hells just happened? he thought, staring around his empty room.

 

…………

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin stood outside the double doors that led into the Great Hall with some trepidation. He was the Dark One, for goodness sakes! He was the most feared creature in all the land! It was ridiculous for him to be frightened of his maid!

 

And yet he was terrified.

 

He was afraid of seeing her tears when she saw him. She must have come to her senses this morning and realized what they had done was a mistake. Even if she hadn’t been a virgin for some time, she gave herself to the Dark One. According to the dogma practiced in her lands she was now sullied, ruined…tainted.

 

He was also equally afraid of the opposite reaction! What if she greeted him with kisses and affection? Her heart shone like diamonds while his was ground into coal. He wouldn’t know how to return her affections even if he was capable of doing such a thing. 

 

Rumpelstiltskin was a coward and always would be. He would just have to avoid her like the plague. She couldn’t live for more than eighty more years, right?

 

He turned around to head back to his tower, where he could immerse himself in his alchemy and spells, when he doors opened with a resounding creak.

 

“Good morning, Master,” Belle said cheerfully, a mop and bucket in hand. “You’re up later than usual. Breakfast is getting cold.”

 

He looked at her questioningly, trying to discern her reaction. There was no hint of regretful tears in her eyes, nor any embarrassed blushes on her face. She didn’t seem to be upset or angry or uncomfortable around him. This was very unlike her. She should have at least turned a charming shade of fuchsia after what transpired last night!

 

“Sleep well, dearie?” he asked, nervously gesturing with his hands. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice his discomfort. 

 

“Very well, thank you,” she replied easily. “I was going to start on the hallway in the East wing today.” She faltered at the sight of him staring at her. “Unless you had a different task for me?”

 

“No, no, that’s fine,” he mumbled. He watched her retreating form as she headed towards the stairs. “Dearie?”

 

“Yes, sir?” She turned around, seeming unconcerned. It was as if nothing at all had happened between them!

 

“I think we should discuss what happened last night.” He was used to being in the one in control. It was disconcerting to realize the power this girl had over him. “It can never happen again.”

 

She frowned in confusion for a moment, then her face slowly flushed in shame. By the gods she was beautiful when she blushed! “You’re absolutely right, Master. I apologize.”

 

She put down her mop and walked back to him, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t mean for it to interfere with my duties. I was just so caught up in it all I lost track of time. I had just never seen one so big before…I couldn’t help myself.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin was at a loss. Was her mind boggled? What she was saying made no sense at all! “Dearie…what are you talking about?”

 

“The Library, of course,” she replied, looking at him as though he had gone mad himself. “I know I was supposed to be cleaning but the books were too big a temptation. I was meant to clean them, not to read them. It will never happen again.”

 

“No, no! Not that. I meant what happened afterwards…in my quarters.”

 

She looked as confused as he felt. “I’m sorry, Master, but I don’t understand. I do not clean your quarters. Remember?”

 

Had he dreamt the whole thing? That seemed to be the only rational explanation. She really had no idea what had transpired.

 

“No matter then. Go about your duties.”

 

She smiled brightly at him and was on her way. Yes, he must have imagined the entire thing. His sweet innocent caretaker could never be the sultry vixen that had invaded his bed last night.

 

But then…how did he end up with this love bite on his neck?


	2. Rules

Over the next several nights, Rumpelstiltskin slept fitfully as he tossed and turned, thinking about his beautiful Belle and the incredible night he thought they had spent together. He was still so unsure about what had really happened. Fearing that Regina or some other magical entity was trying to trick him, he re-fortified his castle to ensure nothing could possibly get through. 

 

After a week of near insomnia, he finally gave in to the idea that he had either dreamt her touches or he had succumbed to some type of delusion. Either way, he decided to forget the entire matter and finally allowed his body the rest it so desperately needed. 

 

He was awoken but a few hours later to the feeling of his member being slowly and deliberately stroked. 

 

“When a Princess enters a room, Rumpelstiltskin, you are supposed to rise. It’s bad manners to leave her waiting.”

 

He instantly hardened at the sound of her sultry voice calling him by his name. She hummed in satisfaction as she felt him stiffen in her grip.

 

With a snap of his fingers his room was awash from the light of dozens of candles. She smiled seductively as he grasped her wrist and held it away from his throbbing manhood. 

 

She was definitely no hallucination. 

 

“What are you doing, dearie?” he asked harshly. He did not like being played for a fool.

 

She whimpered, not in pain, but because she was being denied her game. “I told you last time, Rumpelstiltskin. I need you!”

 

“What you need is an ice cold bath. Explain yourself!”

 

She nibbled on her lower lip and used her free hand to brush her fingertips along his mouth. Her eyes darkened in desire as he swatted her arm away. “Do you not yearn for my touch, Rumpelstiltskin? I didn’t hear any complaints last time.”

 

“Last time I thought you were my Caretaker, yet the next morning Belle had no idea what had happened. Now who are you and how did you get past my wards?”

 

Her giggles sounded as innocent and sweet as Belle’s had that morning when he had made a quip about her lack of cooking skills. “Silly man! I am Belle! Who else would I be?” 

Her eyes widened in wonder and she looked as happy as a child on her naming day. “Would you like me to be someone else? No one has ever role played with me before! Frankly I find our current situation of a poor, helpless Princess being trapped in a castle with a Beast to be extremely exciting! Don’t you?” 

 

His grip loosened fractionally as he tried to comprehend her words. She took advantage of his lapse in judgment and lunged for his clothes, attempting to tug it over his head. He couldn’t help but feel foolish as he wrestled for control from his maid.

 

“Stop it!” he cried, grabbing hold of both her wrists this time. “I will not allow this to happen again. I do not want this to happen again.”

 

“The growing tent in your nightshirt says differently, Rumpelstiltskin,” she sang.

 

“It’s Master to you, slave!” He had never actually ordered her to call him that but his Belle had always spoken to him respectively, rarely ever using his ancient name.

 

She broke free of his grasp and laid languorously across his bed, her perfect skin glowing softly in the candlelight. His eyes wandered unwillingly across her voluptuous bare body and she smiled knowingly. “Not within these walls. There are rules that need to be followed, after all.”

 

“Rules, dearie? And what rules would they be?”

 

She rolled over onto her belly, resting her head on her arms and giving him a fine view of her perfectly sculpted behind. “You of all people should know that there are rules to everything, Rumpelstiltskin. Break the rules and there will be consequences.”

 

He was glad that she had stopped manhandling him for the moment and he took the opportunity to study her closely. It was difficult to tell in the low light but he thought he saw a glimmer of haziness in her blue orbs. Could she be bewitched? Impossible! She has had no contact from anyone but him in almost a month!

 

“Explain them to me,” he demanded.

 

She nibbled on her luscious lip again as she considered his command. “You cannot order me around, oh Dark One. That is rule number one! Within this chamber you are no longer my Master. As your lover, I will be treated as your equal.”

 

“A reasonable request,” he replied. If he was going to get to the bottom of this mystery then he would have to play along. “Anything else?”

 

“Oh, yes!” She smiled brightly. “Rule number two: whatever happens in these chambers will stay in these chambers. You may not speak of it; not even to me. Rule number three: Only I can initiate our little romantic interludes. If I desire you, I will come to you. Otherwise, you will keep your hands and…other delicious body parts…to yourself.”

 

She turned once again unto her back and stretched like a cat. Her bare breasts just begged to be touched! He could feel his loins begin to stir again. 

 

“Rule number four: you will treat me no differently during the day. You will act as though our couplings have never taken place and I will continue on with my chores as usual.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin could not bear to look upon her exposed skin any longer. It was taking all of his willpower just to keep his hands from shaking. He rose from the bed and turned his back to her as he paced the room. “Hmm. Is that all?”

 

“No. There is one more rule and it is the most important one.” She jumped from the bed and sauntered over to him, placing herself directly in his line of sight at all times. “If you should ever reject my advances, there will be punishment.” She cocked her head to one side and her features became subdued. “You will not like it.”

 

She was so incredibly close he could smell the lavender soap upon her soft skin. She must have bathed before coming to see him. A guttural moan escaped his lips before he could quell it. She may not have any magical abilities yet she had somehow bewitched him beyond his senses.

 

He quickly closed the distance between them and sensually rubbed her arms up and down. She shivered at his touch and quietly sighed in her appreciation. He ran one hand down the length of her smooth body and scooped her up into his strong arms. Wrapping her own around his neck, she peppered his throat and chest with slow, languid kisses.

 

He kissed the top of her head and walked the length of his chambers. It was several seconds before Belle realized that he was carrying her, not towards the bed, but to the door. 

 

“Do your worst,” he whispered before unceremoniously tossing her out into the hallway completely naked.

 

…..

 

The following morning, Rumpelstiltskin was unsurprised to find his maid absent from the Great Hall. He went in search of her in the kitchens but found no trace that she had entered the room at all that day. 

 

She is probably too ashamed to show herself, he thought ruefully. Well, if she believed her actions from last night warranted a little holiday from her chores then she had another thought coming. He was the Master of this castle and he would not put up with her little mind games.

 

He marched to her bedchambers and pounded on the door. He could have magically appeared inside her room but he still considered himself a gentleman, no matter what had happened between them. 

 

“Wakey, wakey, dearie!” he sang. “The sun is up and so should you be.”

 

The castle’s wooden doors were so thick that he almost missed the sound of moaning coming from her room. He rolled his eyes in frustration. This wanton girl would be the death of him! “Belle! Stop…whatever it is you’re doing in there and open this door!”

 

Her moans turned into faint whimpers which were swiftly interrupted by the sound of retching. He hesitated only a second before turning the knob and entering her private space. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.

 

His beautiful caretaker was lying on the cold stone floor, vomit pooling around her small frame. Her modest, white cotton nightgown was drenched in sweat and her sheets were a tangled, damp mess atop the bed. She raised her head to look at him, pleading for help with her eyes, before she began to gag again in earnest. 

 

He was across the room in a heartbeat, cradling her head in his lap. Her skin was haggard and grey and blistering hot to the touch. Sweat poured off of her in torrents as she cried in despair. 

 

“What’s wrong, Belle?” he asked gently. There was no way anyone could fake these symptoms. 

 

“Water,” she croaked. “Please!” Her voice was hoarse, as though the bile had damaged her throat during the night.

 

With a flick of his wrist, a pitcher of cool water appeared next to them and she drank greedily. Mere seconds later, her stomach heaved its new contents out. She barely had the strength to raise her head to keep from choking, yet she mumbled soft apologies for ruining his boots.

 

“No matter, dearie,” he whispered. “Boots can be replaced.”

 

He had no idea what could have caused such illness. She had been in fine form yesterday, smiling and humming about the castle as usual, teasing him about how skinny he was when he had not finished his meal. 

 

She was not allowed to set foot outside so he knew she could not have consumed any wild mushrooms or poisonous plants. Had she visited his tower at some point and consumed one of his potions? He would have to inventory them as soon as possible!

 

“Belle? Belle!” he cried. Her eyes had drooped closed and he was forced to shake her to keep her conscious. Her fever was too high. If he did not lower her temperature quickly then her organs would begin to fail. He summoned the wide copper tub from his own chambers and filled it with cool water. It was not so chilly as to put her into shock but cold enough to bring her core temperature down without delay.

 

He attempted to remove her soiled clothing but she struggled against him. She fought with what little energy she had left and tears leaked from her eyes. “Please, don’t,” she begged. She was self-conscience, trying to retain her dignity. He had already seen her nude twice but she acted as though she were a shy, innocent maiden. 

 

Perhaps she was. He just didn’t know anymore.

 

Instead, he picked her up, ruined nightgown and all, and carefully lowered her into the water. She hissed as the cool liquid enveloped her burning body, finally bringing her some relief. He used the empty pitcher to pour the bathwater over her head. She sputtered as it dripped into her mouth and nose but he did not stop. 

 

Too soon the cool water turned warm. He summoned ice into the tub, but it too quickly melted. Her body was not cooling down. If anything it was heating up!

 

“I’ll be back soon, dearie.” He used magic to keep her sitting up while he went to his laboratory. He was terrified her weakened body would sink below the water in his absence and drown. 

 

Once in his tower, he rifled through shelves of herbs, potions and medicines. He had an herbal concoction that was good for fevers and a serum that could cure most poisons, just in case. He added some peppermint leaves to soothe her stomach in hopes that she could keep it all down long enough for it to work.

 

Not wanting to leave her alone for too long, he brought the mixture back with him and began to steep the tea in her room. “It won’t be long now, Belle,” he told her, not sure if she was completely conscious or not. He replaced all the water in the tub and his own hands grew quickly numb from the cold. 

 

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered, gripping his hand. 

 

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “I need you to drink this tea. It has medicine.”

 

He brought the cup to her lips and she cautiously sipped it. She grimaced at the taste but took another drink. She coughed and gagged but managed to keep it down.

 

Over the next several hours, Rumpelstiltskin tenderly nursed his maid back to health. She stayed in the tub all day, the water being magically cooled whenever it reached a normal body temperature. He had her drink the potion every hour and spoon fed her chicken broth when her stomach could handle it. 

 

“Can you tell me what happened, Belle?” he asked late into the day, quill and parchment in hand. He wanted to record every detail she could remember, no matter how small. He would scour the library once she was well enough to be left alone. He had to know what was going on.

 

“Um…we spent the evening in the Great Hall together, talking and reading. The sun was long gone by the time I went to my chambers. I got into bed and read by candlelight until I fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later. The room was so hot I couldn’t breathe! Or maybe it was the fever. I don’t know! My head felt like it would split in two from the pain. I retched for at least an hour before you found me. That’s all I know.” 

 

“Do you remember leaving your quarters at all?”

 

Her forehead crinkled in confusion. “No. No, I never left. I have everything I need right here in my chambers.”

 

He tilted her head up so that he could gaze deeply into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, Master. Why do you ask?”

 

He could detect no deception in her blue orbs. She was telling the truth. “It’s all right, my dear. Now you must rest.”

 

With a wave of his hand, her soiled bedding vanished, only to be replaced by the softest sheets and blankets the castle had to offer. Her sopping tresses dried instantly into soft chestnut curls and her ruined clothes transformed into a blue silk nightgown fit for a queen.

 

She crawled under the cool sheets and smiled weakly. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

 

No one had said thank you to him in decades. No one had called him kind in over 400 years! His life had certainly changed since he bargained for this maiden. “Sleep well, Belle. I shall remain in case you need aid during the night.”

 

He conjured himself a chair and sat near the fire. He continued to make notes, checking on Belle’s sleeping form often. Her fever was gone and a slight pink tinge was returning to her pallid skin. 

 

His weary body eventually gave way to sleep by the heat of the flames. He awoke to the rising sun shining brightly in the window. Belle continued to sleep peacefully in her bed, her body showing no signs of the illness that had plagued her mere hours before. 

 

He went to make note of the changes when he noticed a message scrawled neatly by another’s hand. He frowned as he read the simple words: Follow the rules or face the consequences!


	3. Lessons

Follow the rules or face the consequences!

 

He read the note. He read it again. And then read it once more. 

 

Fear erupted in his soul. He felt as though he had swallowed a chunk of ice whole and it chilled him to his very core. Had Belle written this while he slumbered in the chair? Had some malevolent force penetrated his wards and even now had free rein of his castle?

 

This illness had nearly killed her. Had he not checked on her that early morning he may have very well been constructing a funeral pyre for his pretty caretaker right now. He couldn’t fathom the sweet innocent princess who willingly traded her freedom to save her people would risk suicide to win a place in his bed!

 

He had no doubt now that Nighttime Belle (for lack of a better term) would indeed come calling once again, and soon. She would demand his responsiveness and he would be forced to comply. 

 

He could not risk Belle’s life again.

 

First, however, he had to know if she really was in fact Daytime Belle, in body if not in spirit. There was only one way to confirm it.  
He crept to the opulent bed and gazed down on her sleeping form. She was so beautiful! More beautiful than any woman he had ever met. Regina’s step-daughter was touted as the Fairest of them All but she could not possibly compare with his Belle.

 

His Belle. When had he begun to think of her as his? 

 

She turned on her side, sighing peacefully, baring her back to him. The nightgown he had procured for her the previous night was held up by thin straps and was cut low in the back, exposing her perfect porcelain skin. 

 

With no mirrors in the castle she would never see the mark he magically placed between her shoulder blades. It was a simple black circle, about one inch in diameter. The next time Nighttime Belle removed her clothing for him, he would know.

 

He left a simple breakfast of oatmeal and tea by her bedside for when she awoke. It would remain hot all day in case she required more sleep. After ensuring one last time that her fever was indeed gone, he left her side for the first time in nearly 24 hours and headed straight for the library.

 

His medical journals were of little help to him. Nowhere in dozens of books did it describe an illness such as the one she had experienced. The onset of the symptoms was in some ways similar to the Elfin Plague, but her ears did not grow. Nor did it quite resemble Fire Fever, in that her skin did not blister and blacken. If he took her nighttime romps as a symptom along with headaches, then she may have the legendary Licentious Disorder, but that did not explain the fever and complete lapse in memories. 

 

Unless she was an excellent liar and had consumed something dangerous on purpose, his only other conclusion was that someone else’s magic was at play. There was only one thing for which he was certain and that was that his young caretaker did not possess any magical abilities.

 

He knocked quietly on her chamber door and waited to be granted entrance. He still did not feel it was right to simply walk in unannounced. She was sitting comfortably, her back propped up with half a dozen pillows, reading one of the many books he had left by her bedside. She smiled warmly as he approached, hands clasped behind his back to keep from fidgeting too much. He was a conflicting mess of emotions.

 

“Thank you for leaving me breakfast,” she said, smiling tiredly. “I’m feeling so much better now. I think I may even be tempted into eating some dinner too.”

 

“As you wish, milady,” he replied, grinning back. He conjured a tray at her lap and removed the dome lid with a flourish. Underneath was a steaming bowl of lamb stew, a large round of crusty bread and a generous smear of fresh butter. He removed the cloth napkin and draped it across her nightgown. 

 

She blushed at this intimate gesture and bit her lower lip shyly. “This looks delicious! Again, thank you.”

 

He waved away her thanks awkwardly. He was not used to being treated as though he had feelings. It was as if she did not even see the monster right in front of her. 

 

“May I?” he asked, picking up a sharp knife. He cut a large circle out of the top of the round loaf and tore out most of the soft interior. He grinned mischievously at her puzzled look and carefully dumped the hot stew into the hollowed bread. “The gravy will soften the crust so that once you have eaten the stew you can eat the bowl it sat in.”

 

She giggled sweetly. “What a clever idea! A bowl made of bread! However did you come up with that?”

 

“I used to do it for my son whenever he…” He dropped the knife on the floor and it clattered loudly on the hard stone. 

 

“You had a son?” she asked, taken aback.

 

A dozen emotions fought for dominance on his face. He had not spoken of Bae to anyone in centuries! How could he be so careless? He silently berated himself for revealing his secret; his one weakness. 

 

For his son was a weakness! He was the one thing Rumpelstiltskin truly loved. He was willing to do whatever it takes, willing to sacrifice whatever it takes, to get Bae back. He hated giving another power over him by knowing his deepest secret.

 

“There was a son, once,” he replied quietly, refusing to look at her. “I lost him.”

 

He suddenly felt a warm hand reaching out for his fingers and giving them a little squeeze. “I’m sorry. I think you would make a wonderful father.”

 

“No one wants a monster for a father.” He marched out of her room and slammed the doors. 

 

The sun had not yet set but he was exhausted and wanted to be alone. The spinning wheel held no appeal for him so instead he mounted the cold stone steps up to his suite. He climbed into the large copper tub now back in his chambers and sank below the hot, sudsy water. 

 

He wanted to scrub away the sweat and dust and fear from the last 48 hours.

 

Crawling into his large, warm bed, he rested his head against his pillow and prayed that tonight he would not be tortured with nightmares of a green vortex and a child’s heartbreaking pleads. 

 

>>>>>

 

 

The sound of a door being roughly shut roused him from a sound sleep. Nighttime Belle stood haughtily by the door, dressed in a clean nightgown from Daytime Belle’s room. By the height of the moon seen through his window he guessed it was well past midnight.

 

“I hope you learned your lesson, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said sullenly. “I would really hate for that to happen again.”

 

“And what exactly did happen?” he demanded. “What it poison? Did you use magic?”

 

“Have you forgotten rule number one already? You cannot order me around in here.” She sauntered over to his bed and sat on the edge, facing him. “Now let’s forget all about yesterday’s unpleasantness. I’m here to discuss the future. More importantly, I’m here to make sure that you understand what is expected of you.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin growled low in his throat. “Oh, I understand, dearie. But there was no rule that said I had to enjoy it.”

 

She looked at him sadly and brushed a few loose tendrils away from his face and caressed his cheek. “I do hope that soon you’ll see that this is a good thing; something for both of us to delight in, together.” 

 

“Perhaps,” he replied, unconsciously leaning it to her soft touch. “But I do give you my word. I will not risk Belle’s safety by rejecting your advances again.” I will just have to find a way to solve this mystery and keep her safe.

 

She smiled brightly and her entire demeanor changed. “The word of the great Rumpelstiltskin is a powerful thing indeed.” 

 

They sat quietly, staring timidly at each other. He refused to make the first move. Her own rules stated that only she could initiate their little clandestine meetings and he was nothing if not a stickler for rules. 

 

Her smile turned into a frown and she worried her lower lip. “I’m sorry about your son. I must say I’m surprised you even had one.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and played absent mindedly with a loose thread on his blanket. “It was a very long time ago; back when I was just an ordinary man with a family, before I was transformed into a monster.” 

 

“You’re not a monster,” she chastised him, leaning forward to tenderly kiss him on the cheek. Her voice became low and sultry. “In fact, I happen to find you very handsome.”

 

He felt his jaw drop open. He wouldn’t have been more shocked had she suddenly grown a second head! “Well, you would be the first,” he stammered.

 

“And you are the first to ever reject me, so now we’re even.”

 

He grimaced at that tidbit of information and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Dearie, just how many other…” He struggled to find the right word. Victims? No that seemed rather harsh. “companions…have you had?”

 

She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh I stopped counting years ago! How about you? I only ask because you seem so…inexperienced. I admit that’s why I was surprised to hear about a son. I thought that maybe our first time together was your first time…you know…ever.” 

 

The Dark One glowered dangerously. “Tread cautiously, dearie. It’s not wise to taunt a beast.”

 

She tried suppressing a giggle but failed miserably. She didn’t seem frightened of him at all!

 

“I actually like that it’s been a long time for you.” She cuddled up next to him, and began sensuously kissing his neck and rubbing his thigh. “That means I will just have to become your teacher. And you, dearie, have much to learn.” 

 

He swallowed audibly. He felt so conflicted! On one hand, her touches were so warm and tempting. He desired her like no one he had ever met in his considerably long life. No one had ever willingly given herself to the Dark One and he would never take that which was not freely offered.

 

On the other hand, perhaps she was unaware of her actions and would hate him when she discovered the truth. 

 

Perhaps this wasn’t even Belle at all and it was all some cruel trick to discover the monster’s weaknesses! 

 

But if he did not play along then Belle might again suffer some horrible illness or worse! Or maybe…

 

He lost his rambling train of thought as she placed a hand on his groin and rubbed it with the edge of her palm. “Lesson number one; the first thing a baker needs to learn is to get the oven nice and hot before he puts the bread in.” She peeled herself away from him and stretched out on the bed. “My oven is cold, Rumpelstiltskin. I need you need to stoke the fire.” 

 

He hesitated only a second before dropping down next to her and claiming her throat. He sucked and bit near her collar bone, lavishing her with his tongue, returning the love bite she had bestowed upon him that first night. She hummed appreciatively as his left hand claimed her breast and roughly removed it from the low top of her nightgown. 

 

“Mmmm! Oh please!” she implored him softly. “Put it in your mouth!” 

 

He willingly obeyed her, taking her taught nipple into his warm mouth. His tongue playfully licked the firm bud and his weathered lips sucked until she cried out. His hands wandered all over her soft body, exploring everywhere he could reach. 

 

This was a sweet torture unlike anything he had ever experienced. The chance to worship her body and make her plead for more spread an urgent heat within his loins.

 

“Is this to you liking, Mistress?” he asked between kisses.

 

“Mmmm,” she mumbled. “It’s a good start. But I think I need something a bit more…intense.”

 

She removed her nightgown and reclined back down on the bed. She tossed away the pillows so that she was lying flat, her legs bent at the knee, feet planted on the sheets. 

 

“You are known as the Spinner of words, Rumpelstiltskin. That your tongue is more dangerous than any magical force you can summon.” She spread her legs apart, exposing her forbidden fruit. “Show me what your tongue can really do.” 

 

He faltered. He had certainly heard talk of such things before. He had conducted many a deal in dark taverns where the voices of drunkards carried across rowdy rooms. He had just never done it before. Milah had never wanted him anywhere near ‘down there.’ 

 

He tentatively took a small lick of her delicate folds and involuntarily groaned at the taste. She was exquisite; like the finest wine, fit only for kings or gods! He became more arduous in his ministrations, ravenously imbibing on her sweet nectar. 

 

She was extremely responsive, becoming moister with every lap of his tongue. He stuck one long talon finger inside of her core and was surprised by how tightly she clenched around his digit. He moved it in and out, releasing more heavenly fluid and added a second finger, then a third. Her cries of bliss echoed in his ears. 

 

He felt himself growing harder, becoming almost painful as he digs into the mattress. He rolled off the bed and knelt on the cold, hard floor. She whimpered when he stopped but then squealed in delight as he took hold of her hips and dragged her to the edge, her legs falling over the side. She grabbed a fistful of his long hair and held him in place, wrapping her legs around his head and raising her hips slightly to change the angle, giving him better access. 

 

He lapped and stroked and penetrated over and over again. His free hand travelled upward and greedily took hold of her right breast, squeezing it tightly and twisting a hardened nipple. She screamed in ecstasy as her walls clenched even harder around his fingers and he drank in her gift like a man dying of thirst. 

 

He rested his head against the side of the mattress, trying to catch his breath as her own breathing slowly returned to normal. 

 

“You are a quick learner, Rumpelstiltskin,” she panted, her rounded chest rising and falling rapidly with each hasty breath. 

 

“I have an excellent teacher,” he replied hoarsely. 

 

He was hard as a rock and unfulfilled but at least he had been able to bring her pleasure. A small part of him sincerely hoped that this would satisfy her ‘need’ for the night.   
A much larger part hoped she would beg for more. 

 

She turned around, laying on her belly, head facing his. Her forehead crinkled slightly as she gazed intently at his mouth. She leaned forward and tentatively, almost shyly, kissed his swollen lips. Her tongue then plundered his mouth greedily, savoring her unique tang. “Oh my gods! I taste good!” she declared softly, seeming surprised by her own words.

 

This skillful, wanton creature had just experienced something new and wonderful with him! He was undone. “I need you,” he whispered, returning her kisses with more fervor than ever. “Please.”

 

She licked his lower lip seductively and raised herself up on all fours, her luscious behind raised slightly in the air. “I’m sure you can figure out the rest on your own.” He quickly hopped up and began removing his clothes. His shaking fingers fumbled with the fastenings of his pants. 

 

To Hell with it! With a flick of his wrist he was standing in front of her, completely naked, his manhood standing respectively at attention. 

 

“I see what you mean, Rumpelstiltskin,” she giggled. “You DO have a rather large ‘estate.’ 

 

He climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind her. Grasping himself firmly in hand, he slowly guided himself inside her. She was soaking wet from her orgasm, something that filled him with immense pride, and he slid in easily. Taking hold of her hips, he carefully began thrusting in and out, working up a rhythm that seemed to bring both of them pleasure. 

 

While this position was very gratifying, he found himself missing the intimacy of last time. He wanted to kiss her lips and look deep into her eyes. He wanted to be with her! 

 

He suddenly realized that he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure who she was! Her chestnut curls cascaded down her back, almost to her rear, covering any hint of a mark he had placed on his Caretaker earlier that day. 

 

He massaged her lower back with one hand and was pleased when she began to hum in response. He rubbed his way forward, gathered up her long tresses then gently pushed them over her shoulder. Sitting between her shoulder blades was a one inch black circle. 

 

This was really Belle! This was his Belle! 

 

He was suddenly overcome with lust. He increased his momentum and the force with which he pounded into her soft flesh. She begged him to go harder and faster. His sac bounced with each thrust, hitting the little nub on which he had recently feasted, making her moan more loudly. 

 

She came again, more forcefully than last time. When the new gush of warmth enveloped his member he cried out and emptied himself inside of her. “Belle! Oh Gods! Belle!” 

 

Their bodies were slick with sweat and overheating, but he didn’t care. He tenderly gathered her up in his arms, his front spooning perfectly around her back side. She grasped his hand and held them between her breasts, so close to her heart that he could feel each precious beat. 

 

He lovingly kissed the top of her head when she began to stir in his embrace. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, already looking forward to waking up beside her beautiful smile. 

 

She stiffened in his arms and peeled herself out of his hold. She threw on her nightgown quickly and looked under the bed for her feet coverings. “That’s not part of our deal,” she said firmly. 

 

“Then let’s make a new deal, dearie!” he declared. He wasn’t about to let her cast him aside so easily. “Forget all about your rules and these ridiculous mind games!” He came around the bed, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaned his head against her own. “I could give you the world,” he whispered, having never felt more vulnerable than he did pleading with her to stay.

 

“I don’t want the world,” she laughed humorlessly. “I want you to follow the rules!” 

 

He ran a hand over his face and growled in exasperation. He simply did not understand this girl. “Most women would prefer to lay in their lover’s arms, not sneak out while they’re still wet like a common whore!” 

 

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically, not appearing offended by his hurtful words, just confused by them. “I’m not like most women,” she said matter-of-factly. “Besides, I can’t risk falling back asleep here.” 

 

She was out the door before he could respond. He was halfway to donning his pants when her final words caught up to him. 

 

“Back asleep?”


	4. Tales

“You’re looking well, dearie.  How are you felling?” he asked the following morning as she cheerfully served him his breakfast.

 

“Wonderful!  Although I think I spent far too long in bed,” she replied, rubbing her lower back and grimacing slightly.  “I seem to be paying for it now.  I’m stiff and sore in places I didn’t think were possible!”

 

Rumpelstiltskin coughed and sputtered out his tea.  “Are you all right, sir?”

 

“Yes! I’m fine.  I just…was too caught up in my reading to pay attention, is all.”  He waved a leather clad book in the air to prove his point.

 

“That’s sounds intriguing!  May I ask what it’s about?”

 

He leaned back in his chair and touched the tips of all his fingers together.  “I was reading a fascinating book about sleep disorders.  The Evil Queen is trying to obtain a sleeping curse for one of her enemies so I thought I should brush up on other sleeping ailments, just in case.” 

 

He hopped out of his chair and began pacing about the room.  “Have you ever heard the tale of the Cobbler?”

 

She shook her head no and he continued.  “There once was a poor cobbler who couldn’t feed his family.  Business was not going well because he no longer had an assistant to help make shoes.  The townspeople went to another cobbler who had more product readily available.  One morning, he descended his stairs and discovered his entire shop was filled with shoes!  He couldn’t believe it.  It was a miracle!”

 

“How wonderful!” Belle exclaimed.  “Did it happen again?”

 

“Of course!  The very next morning he awoke to dozens more finished shoes. He believed that a magical elf had snuck into his shop while he slept and made all the shoes for him.  He boasted his good fortune to the entire town.  Everyone wanted shoes made by a magical elf.  His competitor was not pleased and decided to catch it for himself.”

 

Belle seemed scandalized at the very thought of it.  “Did he find the poor creature?”

 

“In a matter of speaking.  That night, once the cobbler went to bed, the thieves waited outside the window to await the elf.  A few hours later, the cobbler himself came down the stairs and began making the shoes!  The poor man was sleepwalking and had absolutely no memory of it the next day!”

 

Belle tried to stifle her giggles and ended up snorting instead.  “That poor man!  How humiliating!” 

 

“Yes, well apparently people do all sorts of things while sleepwalking and they have no memory of it ever happening.  Some people get up and wander about the house, others ride horses and wake up in far off places, and some people make shoes.”

 

“I shouldn’t laugh,” Belle said, wiping a tear from her eye.  “One of my family’s oldest maids swears she’s caught me sleepwalking on more than one occasion, although I don’t know if that’s true or not.  I’ve always awakened in the same place I laid my head.”

 

_Interesting_ , he thought.  “Has anyone else ever told you this?  Someone other than your servant, perhaps?”

 

“No, which is why I suspect she was mistaken.  She was a bit mad at times.  She sometimes locked me in my room at night, mumbling about how no man wanted a wife who wanders.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin cringed.  Perhaps this old crone was not as deranged as Belle believed.  “Belle?  Why _have_ you never married?” he asked gingerly.

 

She playfully rolled her eyes at him.  “I _was_ going to be married. You know that.  Remember the tall, dark Neanderthal that pointed his sword at you?”

 

He giggled impishly.  “I meant before that.  You are twenty six after all.  Not that that’s very old, mind you, but most princesses are married off as teenagers.”

 

Belle worried her lower lip and flushed scarlet.  She sat on the long table and swung her legs about absent mindedly.  “I began receiving suitors on my sixteenth birthday.  My father threw a grand ball and invited all the eligible princes and noblemen in order to present me to society.”

 

She cradled her tea cup in her hands but never took a sip, lost in her memories.  “You are probably not aware of this but I have a…reputation…in my village.  Apparently I’m a bit odd.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin leaned casually against the table next to her, all ears.  “Odd, dearie?  How so?”

 

“People in my land are very narrow-minded.  They did not approve of my love of reading and neither apparently did any potential husbands.  Over the last ten years I have had over thirty men come to court me.  Each of them left after only a few days.  Some said I was strange, others said my head was up in the clouds.  A few even dared to question my…”  Her face burned in shame and she took a sip of tea to hide her blush.

 

“Questioned what, Belle?” he asked, feeling he already knew the answer.

 

“My virtue,” she whispered softly.  “They said they could only marry virgins and they had reason to believe that I was not as pure as my father had led them to believe.  It was all vicious lies of course!” 

 

Rum was seething!  Belle must have been sleepwalking while she seduced her suitors.  These nobles…these cockroaches…accepted her into their beds, used her for their own perverse pleasures then discarded her the next day like a worthless prostitute.

 

And poor Daytime Belle had no idea why!

 

“What did your father say about these allegations?”

 

“He became angry and ordered them to leave our kingdom.  He commanded them to never again speak of it to anyone.”

 

“Did he ever ask you if the rumors were true?”

 

“No!  Of course not!” she cried.  “He never had to question me.  He knows me better than anyone.  Papa said they were just intimidated by my intellect and told me to pay them no mind.”

 

They each sipped their tea quietly, lost in thought.  Belle broke the tense silence once her tea cup was emptied.

 

“How about you?  Were you ever married, I mean?”

 

“I was once, centuries ago,” he replied softly.  He moved quickly toward his wheel and immediately began to spin.  “I think that’s enough tales for one day.  You may go about your duties.”

 

“Of course, sir.  I fear I am fighting a hopeless battle against the dust!  I’m out of commission for two days and it’s as though I’ve never been here!” 

 

It was odd that the thought of Belle having never come to his castle seem to fill him with more sorrow than the memory of his horrific marriage.  

 

 

 

……

 

 

 

Belle did not return to his bed that night, nor the next night, nor the night after that.

 

He was both relieved and a little annoyed that his services were not required (or desired) on a daily basis. 

 

Relief because of the overwhelming guilt he felt at betraying her trust each time he took her and annoyance because he had a carefully laid out plan to wake her up that he desperately wanted to try!

 

His frustration at her delay had nothing to do with missing the warm embrace of her voluptuous body or the thrill of her soft caresses.  Nor was it the look on her face when she climaxed in his arms or the indescribable feeling of her sex clenching around his cock as he released himself inside of her. 

 

At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

 

He tossed and turned in his cold empty bed each night, desperately awaiting her presence.   Try as he might, sleep continued to elude him until he finally gave into the baser urges of the feeble human body, something that he had not felt inclined to do since becoming the Dark One.  Grasping himself in hand, he slowly massaged his member until it was engorged. 

 

The first time, he thought about their nights together; her sultry voice as she guided him inside of her, the warmth of her delicate folds, and her inexpressible taste.  _Oh gods!  Her taste!_  

 

The second night he thought of the things that he would like to do her and the incredible things that she had yet to teach him.

 

The third night he found himself thinking about her light, lilting voice as she read to him while he spun his gold every evening; the way she blushed ever so slightly whenever their fingers touched as she handed him his chipped cup; the way she smiled when he returned home from a deal, as though she were pleased to see him.

 

With a low grunt of pleasure, he spilled his warm essence unto his stomach and fell into a peaceful slumber devoid of his daily nightmares.

 

 

 

…..

 

 

 

On the fourth night, she returned.

 

“Have you missed me these last few nights, _Rumpelstiltskin_?” she crooned, gently awakening him with a caress on his cheek.  

 

He swiftly snatched her fingers then brought them to his lips.  He tenderly kissed her knuckles and grinned mischievously.  “Has it been that long?  I haven’t noticed.”

 

“Hmph!” she replied, peeking underneath his covers.  “The stains on your nightshirt say differently!”

 

She giggled uncontrollably as he seized her around the waist and pulled her unto the bed.  Rolling on top of her, he clutched her luscious lips to his own and stroked up and down her side, lingering around the swell of her breast.  She kissed him back fervently, seeking out his tongue, and he hardened against her stomach.  “You _have_ missed me, haven’t you?”

 

“I haven’t not missed you,” he replied hoarsely, moving down her neck.  With a snap of his fingers, hundreds of candles ignited and softly illuminated the room.  The stone hearth’s embers flickered into roaring, crackling flames, casting its warmth over the couple.  “Could you please remove your clothing for me, mistress?”

 

“Oh?” she replied, her eyes swimming with anticipation.  “Why so eager tonight?”

 

“I have a surprise for you,” he purred into her ear.  She raised her eyebrows and looked at him skeptically.  “Humor me.”

 

She rose up on her knees and lifted her arms.  She smiled playfully and winked at him as he slowly removed her nightgown, his tongue eagerly ravishing her exposed skin as the silk came over her head. 

 

He scooped her into his arms and effortlessly carried her towards the fireplace.  His copper tub suddenly appeared in the corner, magically expanded to comfortably accommodate a second person.  She smiled and bit her lower lip as the tub quickly filled with lavender scented water.  “In the four hundred years or so that I’ve been alive, I have never had the pleasure of bathing with a beautiful woman.  Will you indulge an old man’s fantasy?”

 

“So long as we can throw in a couple of mine as well,” she replied teasingly.

 

He lowered his head and sought out her lips, indulging in a languorous kiss.  He sighed as they parted, her lips swollen.  “Take a deep breath, love.”

 

She raised her head to look at him questioningly but it was too late.  He dropped her into the frigid bath water and she screamed as it enveloped her heated body.  Her head went under, soaking her long tresses, and she came up, teeth chattering and shivering uncontrollably.

 

“Belle?” he asked tentatively, mentally crossing his fingers.  Had the cold water awoken her sleepwalking form?  Was the quivering girl now standing before him his sweet, innocent, Daytime Belle?

 

“What the bloody Hell was that about, you stupid green _bastard_?” she shrieked as she jumped out of the tub. 

 

_Damn_ , he thought sadly.  _So much for Plan A._

 

A puff of purple smoke enveloped the Beauty, warming her from the inside out and instantly drying her waterlogged curls.  A soft linen robe appeared on her petite frame, hiding her nubile body from his unworthy eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry, dearie,” he said as he affectionately tucked a few stray tendrils behind her ears.  “It would appear the tub thought you were feverish again and wanted to cool you down.”

 

She narrowed her eyes as she frowned at him.  “The second night I came to you, the night you threw me out into the hall, you said I needed an ice cold bath to quell my desire.  Is this some ridiculous plan to get me out of the mood or something?”

 

“I gave you my word I would not reject your advances and I meant it.  This was just an unfortunate mistake. Come.”  He guided her back to the bed and gestured for her to sit.  “Allow me to make it up to you.”

 

A tray of vials and bottles appeared next to them.  Belle looked at them curiously but said nothing.  He removed the stopper of the first one and wafted it under her nose.  She took a tentative sniff.

 

“It smells like strawberries!” she murmured, inhaling another lungful. 

 

“Scented oils from Agrabah.  They become warmer as they are massaged into the skin.  Each one has a different fragrance.”  He gestured to the tray.  “Please, smell them all then choose one.”

 

She eagerly opened them one by one and breathed in their perfumes.  “Mmm!  Vanilla?  This one must be a citrus fruit, but it’s definitely not lemon.  This is some type of spice, maybe?  Oh, I love roses! They’re my favorite!”  She then reached for the smallest bottle and uncorked it excitedly. 

 

She inhaled deeply then gagged.  “Ugh!  How horrid!”  She closed her eyes and shook her head roughly as if to clear her mind.  “What was that?”

 

“Hmm?” he mumbled innocently.  “Oh dearie, dearie, dear!  How silly of me.  I must have accidently put Smelling Salts into the mix!  This foul stuff could wake the dead.”  He gazed deeply into her blue eyes, looking for any sign of awareness.  “How do you feel?”

 

“Fine, I guess.  I think I’d like the rose oil, please.”  She laid down on her belly and rested her head against his pillow.

 

_Damn,_ he thought. _There goes Plan B._

 

He sighed as he picked up the bottle and rubbed the oil into his rough, calloused hands. 

 

The slick fluid flowed smoothly over her form, warming ever so slightly with every stroke.  She hummed appreciatively as he massaged her tight muscles, beginning with her lower back and working his way up to her shoulders.  The kinks and twists she had accumulated from the unaccustomed hard labor over the last several weeks quickly dissipated under his tender ministrations.

 

Once her body was warm and loose he turned her onto her back.  Laying down next to her on his side, he slipped his left arm under her neck to support her head and kissed her tenderly.  “Pour some more oil into my free hand, love.” 

 

She complied eagerly, pouring so much lubricant into his palm that it spilled over onto her stomach.   She giggled as he let it drip onto her bosoms.  He massaged them tenderly at first, letting her become accustomed to the increasing warmth, then with a bit more fervor.  She gasped at the heat radiating from her breasts, even after his touch was long gone.

 

He moved his hand lower, collecting the oil from her stomach and rubbing it all over her torso.  It was an easy move to her legs, petting her inner thighs in concentric circles, getting ever closer to her core but never quite reaching it.  She groaned at his teasing.

 

Her breathing was becoming rapid and her eyes darkened in desire as he inched closer and closer to her sex.  She moaned in gratitude as his slick fingers finally felt along her delicate folds.  After making sure her precious little nub was coated in the warm oil, he slipped a finger inside of her then added a second. 

 

He moved his digits in and out massaging her nub with the palm of his hand while his tongue lavished her nipple.  Her breathing was so shallow he almost missed her whispered plea.  “Push up on your fingers when you’re inside.” 

 

He immediately did as she asked, not even thinking of questioning it.  She knew what her body needed and he was more than willing to give it to her.  He crooked the tips of his fingers up so that they grazed the top of her channel with every pass.  He noticed a small section felt different than the rest of her passage, almost sponge-like. 

 

The response was immediate!  She jerked in his arms and closed her eyes against the torrents of ecstasy passing through her.  She pressed her hand over her lower abdomen, creating additional pressure as he continued pushing up. 

 

“Sit up on your knees beside me,” she sputtered.  Again he did as requested, wondering if she required a change in the angle in which he entered her.  Before he could ask what she desired next, however, she lifted up his black nightshirt and swiftly snatched his engorged member into her mouth!

 

Her warm tongue engulfed his cock.  It was like nothing he had ever imagined!  Milah could barely stand to touch his manhood, let alone kiss it or lick it tenderly.  Belle was doing neither of those things.  She wrapped her free arm through his parted legs and around his buttocks for leverage, then forced as much of the organ into her mouth as possible. Wrapping her lips around it tightly, she then moved her entire head forward and back as she created a suction that knocked his breath away.

 

So caught up was he in this new pleasure that he faltered in his own task.  She took hold of his hand and manually forced his fingers in and out of her at a pace faster than he had planned on taking it.

 

She groaned loudly around his manhood.  The closer she came to climaxing, the faster she sucked on his cock.  By now she was in control of caressing herself as well as servicing him. He furiously penetrated his fingers over and over, making sure he grazed her inner sweet spot with each pass.  

 

A gush of hot fluid flowed out of her in torrents, more than he thought was possible.  She screamed with him still wrapped around her lips, her entire body shuddering through her orgasm.  He tried to withdraw himself from her mouth but she gripped her arm around him tighter, keeping him in place.  She moaned longingly as his seed spilled inside of her, swallowing every drop.

 

When she finally released her hold on him, he collapsed next to her, his head swimming from his rapid gasps.  When his heart finally slowed enough for him to catch his breath, he turned to her and said, “That was not what I had originally planned, dearie.  That was… I fear there are no words to describe it!”

 

“I think the oil made a difference.  The heat it built up inside of me was remarkable.  Thank you for sharing it with me.”  She reached over to grab his hand and held it tightly.  They laid there together for quite some time, giving their bodies the chance to recover from their powerful orgasms.  Once her body was cool enough, she cuddled into his side and he eagerly wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm.

 

“Was she a virgin?” she asked quietly.

 

“Who?”

 

“Your wife,” she explained carefully.  “Was she a virgin your first time together?”

 

“Yes, she was,” he replied tenderly.  “We both were.  We waited until our wedding night.”

 

She was silent for several minutes before delicately asking another question.  “Did she cry?”

 

Rumpelstiltskin sighed heavily, remembering a deep wound that could never heal.  “Yes.  As you’ve pointed out, I was very inexperienced.  I did my best but didn’t really know what I was doing.  My inept fumblings pained her more than it should have.  She never really gave me a chance after that.”

 

“My first time hurt dreadfully,” she whispered almost too low to hear.  “It was up against a cold, hard wall.”

 

He froze, terrified and sickened by her revelation.  “Someone forced you?”

 

“No.  Please do not misunderstand.  I was not unwilling.  I wanted to give myself to him.  It was the night of my sixteenth birthday; the night of the ball.  He was so handsome and charming.  He asked me to meet him later that night, in a quiet corridor away from prying eyes.  I had decided that I couldn’t go through with it and went to my room instead.  I woke up not long before we were to meet and changed my mind.  We were most likely going to be wed anyway so I thought ‘what’s the harm?’ ”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was young and naïve.  I thought he would be a generous and tender lover like the Princes in my books.  Instead he was rough, taking me from behind, my face pressed up against a wall.  He cared only for his own pleasure and I didn’t know enough to know what I was missing.  He left the next day after he told my father his kingdom was no longer interested in a union.”

 

“Which Prince was it, Belle?” he asked coldly.

 

“King George’s son, Prince James.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin tenderly kissed the top of her head but inside he was seething.  Whether she was willing or not, that was an unforgiveable action.  Prince James had to die for hurting his Belle!   

 

“What about your betrothed?  Did you ever give yourself to him?”

 

Belle laughed heartily.  “Oh gods, no!  I wouldn’t let him touch me for all the soap in the world!   I quickly learned that Royals and Knights are selfish lovers, while commoners and servants are much more eager to please their partners.  Gaston is vile and arrogant.  He wasn’t worthy of my hand but we were running out of options.  Let me put it this way; I was willing to trade away my freedom to get out of that wedding.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin snorted derisively.  “Dearie, you traded your life to me to save your people.”

 

“That was just a bonus,” she said smirking.  She untangled herself from his arms and quickly donned her new linen robe. 

 

“Will you be visiting me again tomorrow night?” he asked disinterestedly, hoping to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.  She didn’t need to know the power she had over him.

 

“Perhaps.”  She ran her fingers through his wavy hair and lightly kissed his lips.  “But only if you stop these ridiculous attempts to wake me up.  I’m not sleepwalking, you know.”

 

If Rumpelstiltskin was capable of blushing then he would have at that moment.  “Deal,” he replied hoarsely.  She kissed him once more, a bit more passionately, then scurried from the room.

 

No, he wouldn’t try to wake her up anymore.  He would just have to find the real reason for her change in personality.  In the meantime, he had a Prince’s death to plan!


	5. Second Opinions

Rumpelstiltskin spent his days in his tower, cooking up potions and researching spells for souls desperate enough to call on him.  His evenings were reserved for his spinning wheel, while his precocious Daytime Belle read to him from one of the many tomes she devoured daily, her lilting voice enveloping him like a warm, comforting blanket. 

 

But it was night that he looked forward to the most.  His nights were spent discovering the forgotten delights of the flesh under the careful tutelage of Nighttime Belle.  She returned every night, her lust for him never seeming sated.  While he told himself that he consented only to protect his servant, he knew deep down that he craved her touches more than air. 

 

She was a veritable fountain of information when it came to carnal desires.  Her knowledge of pressure points, positions and foreplay knew no bounds.  Each night she brought him to a state of ecstasy he had thought impossible. 

 

But each night she also released herself from his arms and left his room indifferently.  He was beginning to feel like a concubine.

 

It was this thought that brought his mind back to the task at hand, which was to figure out what was going on with his caretaker.  While her ridiculous rules stated that he could not discuss their situation with anyone (herself included), he had technically only agreed to obey the last one; he gave her his word to never reject her again.  Therefore it was with a clean conscience that he went in search of someone who could possibly explain her strange behavior.

 

There was only one person that Rumpelstiltskin had ever encountered that knew more than he about the human body.  He only hoped that Jefferson would be willing to take him.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

The castle was small but well-fortified.  Nestled between snow-capped mountains, it could have easily been compared to his own home if not for the dome of glass windows in the highest tower and long metallic poles that stretched out to the heavens.  Lighting crackled around them, as if some great magician was weaving his influence over the weather. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” asked Jefferson, looking up at the sky warily.  “I could have brought him back to the Enchanted Forest.  It’s not like you to accompany me on these trips.”

 

“Time is crucial and this is the fastest solution,” Rumpelstiltskin replied, walking up the winding path to the drawbridge.  “Besides, I am curious to see this ‘science’ for myself.”

 

A short bald man with a pronounced hump admitted them inside and led them through the castle’s impressive halls.  The rooms were not filled with ancient tapestries or suits of armor, nor were they furnished with the comforts one would associate with nobility.  The floors and walls were a dismal gray, either by design or neglect, and the rooms were sparse and cold. 

 

Rumpelstiltskin’s home may be known as the Dark Castle, but it was positively cheerful compared to Victor Frankenstein’s fortress of solitude.

 

“Welcome, old friends,” said the peculiar Doctor as they entered his laboratory.  He was surrounded by strange orbs in which bolts of lightning crackled and burst, and gigantic glass vials whose contents boiled without the presence of fire.  This was indeed an odd magic he wielded.

 

“Doctor, I have need of your expertise,” said Rumpelstiltskin, touching everything in sight as though they belonged to him.  “I have a…patron… with a very unusual situation.  Each night, a young lady in his employ becomes insatiably lustful but has no memory of it the following morning.  He needs to find the reason why and put an end to it.”

 

“Hmm.”  The Doctor removed a scalpel from Rumpel’s hands and placed it back on the prep table.  “Perhaps she is simply sleepwalking.  People have been known to engage in sexual activities with complete strangers with no memory of it.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand away impatiently.  “That has been ruled out already.  Also, when her advances were rejected, she became incredibly ill from unknown methods.  It is believed the Nighttime personality consumed a poison to make herself ill, all without the Daytime’s personality being aware.  I have heard of a disease of the mind such as this one but thought it wise to get a second opinion.”

 

“My field of expertise is centered on the body, not the psyche.   Without seeing the patient for myself it would be impossible to make such an assumption.  However, what you are describing sounds very much like Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Multiple Personalities.  Perhaps she had a twin who died in the womb and its spirit is now trying to take over her soul.  Or maybe she suffered a traumatic event at a young age and it’s her mind’s way of coping.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin thought back to her nighttime confession of losing her virginity to the bastard Prince James.  “Yes, she did.  Her innocence was taken from her.”

 

“Does the daytime personality remember that happening?”

 

“No.  She believes she is still a maiden.”

 

“Ah!  Then that could have been the trigger.  The human body is a remarkable thing.  It’s very resilient; it tries to protect itself.  It is possible that the nighttime personality feels it is tainted and damaged now, so she gives herself away as though she’s worthless.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin cringed.  Nighttime Belle really had very little concern for the body she shared.  “Is there a cure?”

 

“Unfortunately no.  We are only beginning to crack open the mysteries of the mind.  It may be decades before we can even begin to understand it.” 

 

He pulled a lever and the glass dome opened fractionally.  A stroke of lightning struck the metal antennae, causing bolts of electricity to crackle between two metal rods above his work table.  Faint wisps of smoke rose in the air.  “I have wanted to try electro-shock therapy on someone for years to see if that has any effect on the mind.  Shall we bring her in and give it a go?” 

 

Jefferson blanched and took several steps back while the Dark One simply glared at the scientist.  “My client does not wish her harmed.”

 

“She’s just a servant.  Surely he could find another.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin growled low in his throat.  With a snap of his fingers, Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant was ensnared in magical chains and suspended from a gangplank.  “Doctor!” he wheezed. 

 

“ _Just_ a servant, you say?” The Dark One asked menacingly.  “Would you care to rephrase that?”

 

The doctor glowered at Rumpelstiltskin for several seconds before smirking lightly.  “My apologies.  Good help is always so hard to find.”

 

Igor dropped to the floor and shuffled away quietly.  

 

“One other thing,” called the doctor as the two travelers turned to leave.  “There is a…demon in this world that shares certain similarities with this servant.  The Succubus is an ancient race of beautiful women who seduce men at night.  Their only purpose in life is to reproduce so they steal men’s semen to impregnate themselves.”

 

Belle had been behaving this way for at least a decade with no sign of ever having been pregnant.  The Daytime personality would definitely have noticed such a thing! He was beginning to suspect that she was unable to bear children at all.

 

Jefferson laughed heartily from the corner of the room.  “And how do you identify such a creature?  Perhaps that is just a way for men to explain to their wives why there is a beautiful woman in their beds.  ‘No dear, I swear!  She was a demon out for my seed!’”

 

The doctor replied coldly.  “It is said that to enter a Succubus is akin to entering a desolate cave of ice!”

 

Rumpelstiltskin automatically thought back to the nights he had spent nestled in her soft, hot center.  No, she was definitely no Succubus!  “Thank you for your time, doctor.  We’ll see ourselves out.”

 

“Here in my land anyone who has mental or physical abnormalities is mistaken as a witch and is burned at the stake.  The result is very messy.  Should your patron’s servant succeed in killing herself I would very much like the chance to autopsy the body.  It would be a marvelous opportunity to dissect her brain!”

 

“Well he was creepier than I remember!” exclaimed Jefferson, once they had departed the castle.

 

“He spends all his time trying to bring back the dead.  What do you expect?”

 

Jefferson glanced furtively over at Rumpelstiltskin and steeled his features to feign innocence. “You know, I’ve been thinking.  Grace is at that age where it would be good to have a female presence in the house again and I’m simply hopeless when it comes to cooking and cleaning.”

 

Rum simply glared ahead but said nothing, so Jefferson continued.  “I think your patron is looking at this all wrong.  A wanton servant who wants to be pleasured at night with no strings attached and continues to clean without question?   This is every man’s dream come true!  If he is unwilling or unable to handle her then perhaps he and I could come to some sort of arrangement.”

 

A scaled hand wrapped around Jefferson’s throat and pinned him against an old, gnarly tree.  “Over my dead body!” snarled Rumpelstiltskin.  “And since I am immortal, that means never!  Do you understand?”

 

Jefferson snorted.  “So she _is_ yours?  I knew it!  You’re the one who taught me that everything has a price.  Name it and I’ll take her off your hands tonight.”

 

“She is not for sale!” he growled, squeezing tighter.  Jefferson continued to smile maniacally. 

 

“Because you fancy her?” he rasped.

 

“Because she is MINE!”  He withdrew his hand and stalked away, leaving the younger man wheezing and laughing.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

It was well past midnight when Rumpelstiltskin arrived back at the Dark Castle.  His feet automatically led him up the long flight of stone steps to his quarters while his mind processed the new information. 

 

He had told Daytime Belle that morning that he was leaving the castle on business and would not be returning until the following day.  It was a therefore a surprise when he opened the door to his chambers and discovered her lying in his bed.

 

She was wearing nothing but a thin shift, the silk sheets a tangled mess around her, as though she had been writhing in his bed.  Her cheeks were flushed and her chestnut hair tousled. 

 

She gasped when she saw him staring incredulously at her.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“The question, dearie, is what are _you_ doing here?  You knew I would not be home tonight.”

 

Nighttime Belle smiled seductively and nibbled on her lower lip.  “True.  But that doesn’t mean I have to be left wanting, does it?’

 

“And you couldn’t do this in your own bed?”

 

“I wanted to be as close to you as possible.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin felt his loins twitch against his tight leather pants.   She thought about _him_ while she touched herself?!

 

He cleared his throat loudly and gestured awkwardly with his hands.  “And did it…help?”

 

She stretched languorously, her pert breasts nearly spilling out of the thin cloth.  “A bit.  But now that you’re back I don’t have to settle for a mere taste.  I can feast to my heart’s content.” 

 

She rose up on her knees and removed his heavy dragon-hide jacket, caressing his chest and arms as she did so.  The hard leather tumbled around his ankles as her hands smoothly moved up his neck and through his wavy brown locks.  She pulled his head down and claimed his lips for a slow, passionate kiss. 

 

He returned the kiss enthusiastically, running his warm, calloused hands up and down her back.  His palms cupped her tight behind underneath her shift and he was very pleased to find her bare back there.  His arousal grew painful as it pressed persistently against his breeches.  As if sensing his eagerness, she expertly unclasped his pants while never removing her swollen lips from his.  She ran her fingers lightly down his hot member and sensuously cupped his sac.   

 

He grunted deeply as she continued stroking him teasingly.  Grabbing her by the wrists, he pinned her arms above her head and lowered her unto the bed, ravishing her delicate, white throat with his tongue.  She wrapped her right leg around his thin waist and used the momentum to flip him on his back, freeing her hands in the process. 

 

“Should I expect this type of greeting every time I return home from a deal?” he inquired, caressing her breast until a taught nipple escaped the straining fabric.

 

“You haven’t yet returned home, merely to the castle.”  She rose up to straddle him and used her hand to slide his hardened member inside of her wet core.  She sighed deeply once it was snuggled in its warm place.  “There.  _Now_ you are home!”

 

With a low growl, he placed his hands on her waist and rolled over, once again claiming the top position.  Her legs wrapped themselves around his middle and her ankles playfully tapped his behind, urging him on.

 

He needed no other encouragement. 

 

He thrust deeply, grinding his hips rhythmically to graze her sensitive nub with every pass.  She pushed a breast up towards his face and he eagerly took it in his mouth, sucking fiercely on her hardened nipple. 

 

There was no denying that Nighttime Belle was a sexual goddess and relished being in control, but he was a man who was not used to being submissive to anyone, especially in his own home.  He savored the moments where he was in control of their movements.  It was an amazing feeling knowing that he, and he alone, was bringing her to a state of ecstasy. 

 

In the weeks that they had been enjoying their secret trysts, they had attempted more positions than the inexperienced Rumpelstiltskin had ever thought possible.  This was the first time they were using a position that was familiar to him; the only one that he had known in fact!  It was an intimate one that he enjoyed, being face to face with the woman he adored.

 

He wasn’t merely fucking her this time; they were making love. 

 

That realization hit him like a ton of bricks.  He reluctantly let go of her breast and crushed his lips to hers.  His tongue brushed her plump lips, begging entrance.  She parted them immediately, allowing him to plunder her unhindered, running his tongue over her teeth, lips and roof of her mouth.  Her own tongue connected with his in a sensual dance that he never wanted to end.

 

He lowered himself down to be closer to her, his left arm supporting her neck like a pillow while his right hand wandered provocatively down her torso, seeking out the magical button that would bring her over the edge.  His lips traveled down her neck and sucked on her pulse point, nibbling on her collar with his teeth, being careful not to break the skin.

 

His thrusting grew more urgent as he felt his release slowly building up deep in his stomach.  He couldn’t seem to get close enough to her as he plunged faster and harder. 

 

Suddenly, Belle pushed his shoulders away and sputtered “Wait!”  He stopped immediately though it took every ounce of will and then some. 

 

“Belle?” he asked, frightened.  Had he injured her somehow in his urgency?

 

“Bring my legs up,” she panted hoarsely. 

 

He hesitated, not really comprehending where she wanted to be place.  She pushed him up onto his knees and swung one leg up to rest her ankle on his shoulder, then the other.  She nodded for him to continue and he thrust forward, carefully at first.

 

It was like nothing he had ever experienced!  The angle in which he plunged inside of her allowed a depth he had previously thought impossible!  As he leaned into the thrust even more, her legs slid up until his shoulders met her mid-calves.  Her eyes fluttered closed as the position granted her new sensations as well. 

 

“Oh, gods!  Yes!” she cried. “Harder! Please! Harder!”

 

He complied, wanting to give her everything she desired.  Being a short man, his cock may not have been as long as some (or so Milah the Whore was known to say) but this position allowed her to easily take in his full length and a deep guttural moan escaped her lips.  Her screams reverberated across the room, filling him with pride.

 

Her feet crossed behind his head, tousling his hair as he plunged deeper.  Her hands wandered about, as if she was unsure where to place them.  One minute she was caressing his face tenderly, then she was stoking his hips rhythmically, then she was rubbing herself to the edge of insanity.  She thrashed about underneath him, her cries becoming one long, continuous moan.

 

With a force that surprised even him, they climaxed together.  He emptied himself inside of her as his member was enveloped in the warmth of her own release. 

 

Her body was bent almost completely in half as his weight brought her legs up past her head.  He carefully rose up, bringing her legs straight up in the air together.  She slowly lowered them, using her core muscles to guide them down while keeping her spine in alignment.  It cracked as she stretched. 

 

Rumpelstiltskin collapsed next to her. “Did I hurt your back, love?”

 

She smiled sleepily.  “Nothing a massage with the Agraban oils couldn’t fix.”

 

“As you wish, milady.”  With a flick of his wrist, the hot rose oil appeared.  She removed her scant clothing and laid down on her stomach as he worked the oil into his hands.  His skin glided effortlessly across her back, warming her already loosened muscles.

 

“I was in the most fascinating world today,” he said excitedly.  He had been looking forward to telling her all about it, while keeping the reason for visiting the doctor a secret.  Belle was insatiably curious when it came to his travels and he enjoyed relating his tales to such a captivated audience.  “Perhaps I shall take you there someday.”

 

“Shhh,” she said softly.  “Less talking, more rubbing.  Tell me in the morning when I’ll care.”

 

The blow hit him harder than any curse or jinx.  It was so easy to forget that this was not the shy, curious Belle who blushes when she reads about kisses or the brave, selfless Belle who gave up everything to save peasants.  This was nothing but a pale imitation of her, a dark shadow cast from her brilliance. 

 

For the first time since their affair began, he was relieved when she slipped out of his room to return to her own quarters.


	6. Falling

Rumpelstiltskin stared morosely at his breakfast, pushing the meat and eggs around his plate without taking a bite.  His tea, in the preferred chipped cup, was made to his exact specifications with the perfect amount of cream and sugar.  It lay untouched next to him.  He slouched in his chair, his shoulders hunched dejectedly, like a man who bears the weight of the world upon them.

 

“Is something the matter, sir?” asked Belle, frowning at his full plate.  “Is the meal not to your liking?”

 

Rum was silent for several heartbeats before sighing.  “No, dearie, the food is fine.”

 

Belle ignored her own breakfast and worried her lower lip.  “Would you prefer a dinner instead?  I know it’s only morning but you _were_ out all night on your deal.  I made a lovely cherry pie yesterday while you were gone.  It’s not as good as my apple pies but I know you have an aversion to apples.  Would you like me to fetch you a slice?”

 

He shook his head silently and continued to dissect his breakfast. 

 

He didn’t notice she had left her seat until he felt a soft, warm hand touch his shoulder.  He looked up to find her standing next to his chair, a concerned look upon her face.  “Has something happened?  Did your deal not go as well as you had hoped?”

 

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore her heartfelt inquiry.   She was an overflowing river of innocence and sincerity.  He smiled weakly at her to ease her mind.  “My trip went well.  I got the information I required, though it wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.” 

 

_Is there a cure?_

 

_Unfortunately no._

 

“I’m sorry,” she said genuinely.  Her eyes lit up playfully as she poked him hard in the chest with a delicate finger.  “But you, sir, are the most cleverest man I have ever met.  I’m sure you can spin the situation to suit your needs.  I know you don’t like to discuss your deals, but if you wish to talk it out, I’m told I am an excellent listener.”

 

_Tell me in the morning when I’ll care._

 

He cringed as he remembered the careless words spoken to him by Nighttime Belle as he told her about his travels.  He had been lowering his walls for her while he was at his most vulnerable, allowing her a peek behind the monster to see the small man that still resided deep, deep down, kept alive by the hope of finding his Baelfire. 

 

Nighttime Belle had unflinchingly dismissed him.  She did not care for him.  She merely wanted something from him, as did everyone.

 

Oh, how the Fates despised him!

 

He was beginning to care for her.  He could no longer deny it. 

 

It had been centuries since anyone had showed him any real kindness, let alone offered companionship, and she did it all unconditionally.  He wanted nothing more than to gather her petite frame into his arms and never let go. 

 

But he couldn’t. 

 

Daytime Belle was his servant, possibly his friend, but nothing more.  She could never _be_ anything more; she could never _want_ anything more.  Not from an old monster like him. 

 

He sat at his wheel and spun for days at a time. Nothing could tear him away from his spinning; not the summons of desperate souls in need of his help, not Belle’s insistence that he rest, not even the tantalizing smell of his favorite dishes that she spent hours preparing just for him.

 

Belle was upset at his change in behavior.  He could tell.  But she was also determined to not let him get her down.  She simply tried harder to make him smile.  She sat down next to his wheel and attempted to read to him from her favorite books, like had once become their habit.  He dismissed her coldly, insinuating that she must have better things to do with her time.

 

He was sickened with himself at her slumped shoulders and mournful sigh as she ambled back to her quarters.  He was destroying their tentative friendship with his lengthy silences and general despondency. 

 

She was his one brief flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness and he was summarily snuffing it out.

 

But it was for her own good as well as his.  At least, that was what he kept telling himself. 

 

Nighttime Belle did not return to him, at least, not to his knowledge.  It seemed the more he pushed Daytime Belle away, he less desirable he was to the other personality. He spent more and more time away from the castle at night and rarely returned to his quarters, just in case.

 

He secretly entered her own chambers every morning before dawn to check on her, just in case she had succumbed to another poisoning attempt in retaliation.  Technically, he was not rejecting her advances if he wasn’t around to see them coming, but Nighttime Belle may not appreciate his clever loophole. 

 

Each morning he found her as healthy as can be, if not exactly sleeping peacefully.  She tossed and turned, mumbling incoherently as though she was suffering from nightmares.  It took all his will power to resist brushing loose tendrils of hair from her face. 

 

Giving into even that small a temptation would be his undoing.

 

He had to keep his distance.  He had to protect her from himself. 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

“Why do you spin so much?” she asked quietly.

 

He cocked his head to the side but did not answer.  They had barely spoken in days. 

 

“Sorry.  It’s just…you’ve spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend.”

 

“I like to watch the wheel,” he replied simply.  “It helps me forget.”

 

“Forget what?”

 

_You; your touch; running my hand through your hair; caressing your soft skin; feeling your body underneath mine; holding you in my arms; the taste of your kisses…_

 

“I guess it worked!” He laughed shrilly to mask his pain and turned around to face her.  She giggled softly, obviously amused that his odd sense of humor had returned, albeit briefly.

 

It was then that he noticed she was standing on one of the uppermost rungs of his ladder, wearing those ridiculous heeled shoes, tugging uselessly at his damask curtains.

 

“What _are_ you doing?” he asked, hopping up from his stool and walking to the window.

 

“Opening these!” she stated as though it were obvious.  “It’s almost Spring.  We should let some light in.”

 

_You’ve already brought more light into this castle than a thousand windows ever could._

 

She continued to tug but the drapes did not budge.  “What did you do?  Nail them down?”

 

“Yeah.”  This _was_ the Dark Castle after all.

 

With an amused huff, she heaved the drape forcefully one last time. The rod was wrenched away from the wall and fell to the ground hard.  Belle, thrown off balance from the loss of her anchor, tumbled down after it. 

 

Rumpelstiltskin instinctively reached out his arms.  Despite his small stature, his arms wielded considerable strength and he managed to catch her easily. 

 

The glaring rays of unfamiliar sunshine from the exposed window blinded him momentarily.  Once his eyes had a chance to adjust, he looked down at the lovely figure lying in his arms.  He rarely ever saw her in so much daylight and he was fleetingly struck by her delicate beauty. 

 

He suddenly realized that he was staring at her, cradled in his arms.  He had avoided her for weeks and now here she was, his arms wrapped around her tenderly, holding her as a man carries his bride over the threshold.  Her body was as warm and soft as he remembered it.  His entire being ached to kiss her.

 

“Thank you,” she said, looking at him curiously. 

 

He dropped her quickly, as though her body had burned his thick skin.  He smoothed his clothing awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands.  She mirrored his gesture, an embarrassed flush rising up her beautiful throat to her cheeks. 

 

“Thank you,” she repeated.

 

He cleared his throat loudly.  “No matter.”

 

“I’ll…uh…put the curtains back up,” she stated.

 

“There’s no need,” he replied.  The last thing he wanted was for her to fall again, especially into his eager arms.  “I’ll get used to it.”

 

He marched determinedly back to his spinning wheel.  He would have to spin a king’s fortune in gold in order to forget how wonderful it felt to touch her again.

 

 

 

….

 

 

 

That night, he paced the castle like a wild man.   He could still smell the faint wisp of her scented soap on his silk shirt where she had been tenderly tucked into him.  The fragrance was driving him mad but he could not bring himself to change out of the permeated clothing. 

 

The spinning wheel had failed to occupy him as his thoughts kept creeping back to his beautiful caretaker, wondering if she was slumbering in her large bed or reading by the stone hearth in her chambers.  He relished feeling close to her again, if only in his mind’s eye. 

 

He itched to be near her but knew he could not give into temptation.  Underneath the magic, behind his façade, he was still a weak man.  He had to keep his distance. 

 

As much as it hurt, he returned to his own quarters, wanting to at least be near the memory of her.  Along with his powers and repugnant appearance, Rumpelstiltskin had been bestowed with perfect recollection. 

 

Most nights he considered it to be the worst part of his curse; clearly seeing the loss of Bae in his mind as though it had happened yesterday was a cruel torment.   Tonight was no different.  Lying on top of the covers, he closed his eyes and torturously relived every wondrous moment he and his lover had shared in his bed.

 

He felt his loins twitch while remembering a particularly extraordinary night involving a jar of honey, but he did not give into his baser urges as much as it caused him discomfort. 

 

This was his punishment, the price he had to pay to remember her. 

 

A noise roused him from his daydreams.  He reluctantly opened his eyes and gazed towards the entrance of his chambers, already guessing what lay before him.

 

Belle stood by the opened door, dressed in a plain cotton nightgown with no coverings on her bare feet.  Her hair was tousled and slightly damp from sweat and her flushed cheek was marked by a faint outline from her pillow.  Her chest heaved heavily and her eyes darkened with unquenchable lust.      

 

She must have just awakened as Nighttime Belle and ran the length of the castle to his quarters!

 

“Please, _Rumpelstiltskin_ ,” she whispered beseechingly.  “Please. I need you.”

 

“Thank the gods!” he said huskily.

 

He was across the room in less time than it took to blink.  His body collided with hers hard against the wooden door and his lips quickly claimed her throat.  She moaned at his eagerness, running her fingers through his long, curly hair.

 

He knew it was wrong.  He knew he should stop.  He knew he was undoing all the progress they had made from the last several weeks.

 

He didn’t give a fuck!

 

His mouth crushed against hers fiercely while his hands ran up her torso, claiming a covered breast.  His tongue slid seductively across her lower lip, pleading entrance.  She giggled softly, denying him his fun while she desperately tried to work the clasp on his leather pants.

 

She gasped in surprise when he twisted her taught nipple hard, allowing him to finally plunder the inside of her mouth.  Every touch, every taste was exquisite!  

 

The nightgown was pushed up around her waist, freeing her milky white thighs.  She wrapped one leg around his hip and angled her pelvis to press up against his straining erection. His calloused hands roughly caressed her supple thighs until he cupped her firm behind.    

 

He was surprised to encounter the soft linen of her bloomers. Nighttime Belle usually came to him wearing little to nothing at all.  The heat pouring through the thin material was distracting!  He had to have her; every part of her. 

 

Pushing the leg off of his hip, he roughly grabbed the sides of her underwear and pulled them down to pool at her feet.  He then tore the unappealing nightgown from her body, leaving her completely bare, and claimed her round breast with his mouth.

 

She chuckled as he sucked.  “I knew you couldn’t resist me forever, _Rumpelstiltskin_.”

 

“I do believe it is _you_ who cannot resist _me_ , dearie.” 

 

“Then you’re being rude for keeping me waiting.”  She turned her back on him and leaned her forearms against the wall.  She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with the corner of her eye.  “You know what I want.”

 

His clothing quickly joined hers on the floor.  She grunted in satisfaction at they joined, clearly as eager as he was to be back inside of her.  Her hot core was already moist and he slid in easily.  His head fell against hers as her heat enveloped him like a snug, warm blanket. 

 

He felt a shiver run up his spine as he inhaled the scent of her hair.  Oh how he had missed it!  It was so uniquely Belle, comparable to nothing else he had ever encountered. 

 

And she was all his.  She could be his every night for the rest of her life!  Why did he ever question this?

 

“Harder!” she cried.  “As hard as you can!”

 

He complied, increasing the force of every thrust until her entire body was pressed hard against the cold wall.  Her face was turned to the left, the right side rubbing roughly on the stone, and yet she continued to call for him to go faster and harder than before. 

 

Her chestnut curls kept bouncing into his face, tickling his nose.  He shoved them to the side, over her right shoulder, to keep them out of his way so as not to interfere with his concentration.

 

And then he saw it.

 

The one inch black circle still sat between her shoulder blades.  He had never removed it. 

 

He faltered. 

 

What was he doing?  Taking her from behind against a cold stone wall as Prince James’s had the night she lost her virginity.

 

He was no better than the bastard prince.

 

He was even worse because he was in love with her!

 

He was truly a monster.

 

“Why did you stop?” she demanded huskily, rubbing herself against him.  “Keep going!”

 

“No,” he replied hoarsely.  “I can’t do this.”

 

He backed away from her quickly and clothed himself with a flick of his wrist.  When she turned around, he saw that her breasts were scratched and her cheek was rubbed raw.  His lips trembled as the sight of her. 

 

Oh, his beloved Belle!  What has he done?

 

“You know the rules,” she said quietly, approaching him slowly.  “Do not reject me. Now get back here!”

 

“No!” he cried.  “I refuse to play your games any longer!  I don’t want you!  I want Belle!”

 

“I am Belle!”

 

“You are nothing!” he shouted.  “Nothing!”

 

Her beautiful blue orbs turned cold.  She was unconcerned with her nakedness, showing no shame with him.  When she spoke, her voice was low and threatening.  “Follow the rules or face the consequences.”

 

“I will not take advantage of her!  I must protect her from myself.  And from you!”

 

Belle’s spine straightened and her shoulders pulled back.  She carried herself with all the dignity and decorum of the Princess she used to be.  “You were warned, Rumpelstiltskin.  Now we must both pay the price.”

 

She backed away and closed her eyes. 

 

He was about to ask her what she was doing when she suddenly began to tremble.  Her skin glistened from tiny beads of sweat collecting on her forehead.  Her hand clutched at her stomach as her entire body began heaving until she expelled the contents of her stomach.

 

“I warned you,” she sputtered, before passing out on the floor.

 

_This is no poison,_ he thought, dazed.  _This is magic.  This is a curse!_


	7. Curses and Cures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story was written and published on another site months ago, halfway during season 2. I created a character called "Tamara" that is not to be confused with Neal's fiance! It is just a coincidence.

“I warned you,” she sputtered, before passing out on the floor.

 

_This is no poison,_ he thought, dazed.  _This is magic.  This is a curse!_

 

Rumpelstiltskin picked Belle up in his arms and immediately vanished to the comforts of her own quarters.  He didn’t know how long she would remain unconscious and he feared what she would think if she woke up naked in his bedchambers. 

 

He could feel how rapidly her body was heating.  His fingers burned at the touch of her skin and her limbs jerked violently.  Her illness was progressing far more quickly than last time. 

 

He redressed her in the nightgown left on his floor and carefully lowered her into the frigid water of the copper bathtub.  He added ice to keep it cooler longer but he knew it wouldn’t last.  She was still unconscious so he could not get her to drink the medicine he kept ready for just this sort of event.

 

Tipping her head back, he slowly poured the liquid down her throat.  She gagged reflexively but he did not stop.  Some of the medicine had to make its way to her stomach.

 

It just had to.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin stood near the end of her bed.  He hadn’t moved in hours, since her fever had finally broken sometime late in the morning.  He was terrified to leave her for even a moment.   She slept fitfully, tossing and turning, mumbling incoherently. 

 

The sun was just beginning to set in her window by the time her eyes fluttered open.  She looked around, fear shining brightly in her blue orbs, until they fell upon his still form. 

 

“Hi,” she croaked, attempting a feeble smile.

 

“Hey,” he replied.  It took every ounce of willpower not to run to her.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“Thirsty.”  She attempted to sit up but she collapsed back on the pillows in her weakened form. 

 

He was by her side in an instant.  Supporting her back, he cradled her in his arm and helped her drink from a goblet of water.  She coughed and sputtered a bit, then laid her head against his chest. 

 

They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.  He gently brought his cheek down to lay on the top of her head and closed his eyes.  For just a moment, he could let himself believe that they belonged together. 

 

“What is happening to me?” she asked, her voice strong despite her condition.

 

“I’m not quite sure, Belle,” he replied softly.  “But I give you my word.  I will find out.”

 

She sighed contentedly and squeezed his hand.  “The word of the great Rumpelstiltskin is a powerful thing indeed.” 

 

He chuckled lightly at the irony. 

 

“What’s so funny,” she asked, looking up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth.  Oh, how he wished it were his teeth!

 

“Someone else said those exact words to me not that long ago.”

 

“Well that’s because everyone knows that once you give your word, you never go back on it.”

 

_Except for last night when I rejected you.  And, of course, with Bae._

 

The only two times he had ever broken a deal had been with the ones he loved the most. 

 

He was truly a monster.

 

He hopped out of the bed quickly and fixed the blankets around her.  “I must leave the castle to investigate this further.  I will try to be as quick as possible.”

 

A warm hand grabbed his cold one as he turned towards the door.  Looking down, he saw she was almost falling out of the bed to reach him.  “Please don’t go.  It’s getting late.”

 

“Someone or something is trying to hurt to you, Belle.  I will not let this stand!”

 

“Can’t it wait until morning?” She shivered slightly and crawled back underneath her blankets.  “I don’t know why but…it seems so silly saying this.  I’ve never been frightened of the dark before but I can’t help but feel that if something bad is going to happen to me, it’ll be at night.  Does that make any sense?”

 

It made perfect sense, although he could not explain to her why.  It would simply frighten her more.  “Very well, dearie.  I will stand guard over you tonight and leave at first light.  I promise.”

 

“Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin.”  She smiled warmly at him.  “You’re my knight in dragon-hide leather.”

 

His body ached to lean down and kiss her forehead but he knew he could not.  Seating himself back in the chair by the fire, he summoned several books from his tower and began to pour through them.  He needed as much data as he could find before he went on his journey.

 

In the morning he would seek out the only other person he knew of that was aware of Belle’s disturbing behavior.  Perhaps then he would have more to add to his paltry mound of information.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

Avonlea was healing nicely since the sacrifice of its beloved Princess.  Crumbling walls were being patched, fields were being readied for spring seeding and lives were slowly coming back to normal.

 

The castle itself had returned to its former splendor.  The return of soldiers, villagers and refugees from fallen towns meant an influx of workers who toiled tirelessly to erase the presence of ogres.  Belle would have been pleased to see the progress her home was making.

 

Rumpelstiltskin covered his face more closely with the homespun cloak.  With his poor garbs, he certainly blended in well with the townsfolk, although he would have much preferred travelling by night. 

 

But Belle had asked him to stay and he was too weak to refuse her.  He would do anything for her. 

 

He spoke to several people in dark alleys, trading information for a few strings of spun gold.  His hobby was not well known in this kingdom, so his identity was safe, which in turn kept Belle safe.  

 

It took several tries but he finally found right quarters within the expansive castle.  The sun was already setting, which he hoped meant the owner would be returning shortly. 

 

Nunzia was quite old, after all.  He could not imagine the kindly King forcing her to work too hard or too long at a time. 

 

He had to wait but a quarter of an hour before a hunched form entered the sparse room.  She walked so slowly it was a wonder how she was still able to serve the Royal Family at all.  Perhaps they kept her on to keep an eye on her health.  That seemed like the sort of thing Belle would do. 

 

Her hair was thin and wiry, the color of forged steel.  It was pulled back in a tight bun on the top of her head.  Her exposed face was an ocean of wrinkles and her blue eyes were so clouded over from disease they resembled tiny shards of ice.

 

She did not notice the stranger sitting by the fire even though she passed directly by the hearth on the way to the bed.  He cleared his throat loudly but she did not hear him.  Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes.  He wondered if he was wasting his time with the old crone. 

 

Leaping out of his chair, he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.  She blinked several times before her eyes finally focused on his face.  He could only imagine what she saw with her ancient eyes; most likely some disgusting green blur that glittered in the firelight.

 

He expected screams, he foresaw tears.  He did not anticipate for her to kick him between the legs and run as quickly as her arthritic legs could take her.

 

“DEMON!” she shouted.  “DEMON!”

 

She bolted to the door but it did not open despite her desperate pulls.  She pounded on the wood and screamed for help until her voice was hoarse.  Rumpelstiltskin slowly got up from the floor where he had fallen in agony.  He couldn’t remember the last time someone had managed to overtake him.  He had a sudden, powerful desire to transform the old maid into a slug and pour salt on her, but he resisted the urge. 

 

He was here to help Belle, after all.

 

“Calm yourself, madam!” he shouted.  She continued to fight against the door, scraping her withered hands raw.

 

With a flick of his wrist, he immobilized her entire body.  How was he supposed to get the information he needed if she gave herself a heart attack?

 

“Now, madam, if you would kindly calm down, we can – ”

 

“Speak up, demon!”

 

He may have enchanted her room to be completely soundproof but he hated having to shout when it wasn’t necessary.  He healed her loss of hearing with a thought.  “As I was saying – ”

 

“Come into the light so I can see you properly!”

 

He huffed impatiently and healed her vision just as quickly.  “How is that?”

 

She blinked her eyes several times and focused on the one decoration in her room; a small painting of a younger version of herself sitting next to a man, most likely her husband. Her eyes glistened with tears.  “I haven’t been able to make out his face for ten years.”

 

“If you would like to keep your newfound hearing and vision, Nunzia, then I suggest you cooperate with me.”

 

She finally let her eyes fall on him and gasped.  “What do you want from me, demon?”

 

“Information, dearie.  Tell me what I need to hear and I’ll be on my way.”

 

“I don’t know anything,” she stated firmly.  “In my youth I ran this castle and knew the comings and goings of everyone.  Now my only duty is to make the Royal Family’s tea.  I’m not privy to any of the King’s plans so you’re wasting your time.”

 

“My business is with neither the King nor his castle,” he said, wandering around her chambers.  “It’s about Princess Belle.”

 

“Then you’re too late, demon,” she replied, lips trembling.  “She has been captured by another beast; an agent of evil forged from the fires of the Underworld; a monstrous being so vile the Devil himself spat him out of Hell!”

 

“Actually, I’m from the Frontlands,” he casually replied, unperturbed.  He had been called far worse over the centuries.

 

“You’re…you’re…” she sputtered.

 

“Rumpelstiltskin!”  He bowed low and grinned mischievously.  “At your service.”

 

“You!  You stole her, Dark One!” she shouted, tears leaking from her bright eyes.

 

He waved a finger in front of her face.  “Ah, ah, ah!  I do not take that which is not freely given.  She chose to come with me to save your life; all of your lives.  But I’m not here to argue semantics.  I am in need of information and I think you are the only one who can help.”

 

“Unless you need to know how she takes her tea I cannot help you.”

 

“Oh, I think you know far more than that,” he said softly.  He approached her slowly and carefully cupped her restrained face between his scaled hands.  “Tell me, Nunzia.  Why is it that you used to lock Belle away in her quarters at night?”

 

Nunzia’s eyes widened in fear.  She swallowed hard and licked her lips.  “I...I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Do not lie to me, woman.  Why is it that my shy, innocent caretaker behaves so differently at night?  I cannot put an end to it if I do not know what I am up against.”

 

“Maybe she’s not as innocent as you think.  Perhaps she just finds your other servants simply irresistible.”

 

“There are no other servants.” 

 

What was left unsaid hung heavy in the air.  Nunzia’s body may be frail but her mind was still sharp. 

 

She spit in his face. 

 

“You have ruined her!  She is now tainted by your evil.”

 

A silk handkerchief appeared in his hand and he used it to wipe the spittle from his face.  “I have rejected her advances twice and she has nearly died twice.  I may not always be around to protect her.”  He lowered his voice, sounding more human than he had in centuries.  “Please.  For her sake, help me break this spell she is under.”

 

She gazed at him intently, studying his eyes.  She must have seen something she approved of because she nodded her head in acceptance.  “Answer me this first.  Why?  If there is truly only the two of you in your castle then you will be the only one she desires for the rest of her life.  She could be yours forever.  Why not take advantage of that?”

 

Rumpelstiltskin turned his back on the old maid and lowered his head in shame.  “Because she is my friend,” he said, barely above a whisper.  “And she deserves better than me.”

 

“She was cursed as a babe,” began Nunzia, apparently satisfied.  “A week after she was born there was a grand celebration to introduce the new Princess to the Kingdom.  The Queen retired early with Belle, while the King continued on with the festivities.  I accompanied them to the nursery and there she was.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Her name was Tamara.  She claimed to have been the King’s mistress for several years but he put an end to their affair once Queen Clara was with child.  She was furious.  It was well known that Maurice did not love his bride when they were first wed, that he had been in love with another.  Rumor was that his mistress was barren so he was forced to choose another to marry to keep the blood line going.  Tamara apparently did not take the rejection well. 

 

“She said that if Maurice were to discard her like a common whore than his daughter would be one as well.  Then she began to sing: 

 

_“By night one way, by day another;_

_Sleep will be the door;_

_A demure maiden one moment,_

_The next, a wanton whore;_

_Giving herself to all who tempt her_

_During her waking state;_

_Until True Love’s consummation,_

_That will be her fate._

 

 

“Tamara said the curse would begin on Belle’s sixteenth birthday.  Whenever she felt attraction to someone during the day, she would wake up from a deep sleep that night and seduce them.  It would end only once she willingly gave herself to her True Love during the day.”

 

“Wouldn’t True Love’s kiss break it before it got that far?”

 

“True Love’s kiss cannot break this curse.  She found a loophole.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin paced the small room.  This was troubling information.  “I have never heard of this _Tamara_.  It is odd that a sorceress of this caliber has escaped my notice.”

 

“That’s because she isn’t one.  A sorceress, I mean.”

 

“Then what is she?”

 

“A fairy,” spat Nunzia.  “One that has been corrupted by her grief.  She has dark skin and wore a yellow dress.  That’s all I know.”

 

“Damn fairies!” he muttered.  “Always putting their wands where they don’t belong.” 

 

It was well known that fairies were not capable of bearing children so it was not surprising that Maurice would chose a human for his Queen over her.  Rumpelstiltskin was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread.  “Did the curse also make Belle barren?”

 

“Until it is broken, yes.  If Tamara was incapable of providing Maurice an heir then Belle would suffer the same fate.”

 

Rage boiled in his veins.  Why did fairies always prey on children?  “Why didn’t Maurice and Clara send her away once the curse began?  She could have been sent off someplace safe where she would not be taken advantage of.”

 

“I had been Lady Clara’s servant her entire life and she trusted me above all else with this secret.  No one was to know about it, not even the King, until it became an issue.  The Queen died when Belle was twelve.  I did my best to convince King Maurice but he had no reason to believe me.  Why would he?  It sounds ridiculous!  It wasn’t until he began to hear strange rumors from her suitors that he started to believe it himself.  It simply made him more determined to marry her off so he continued to shove young men in her face.  It only made things worse.”

 

“So you began locking her in her chambers at night.”

 

“Yes.  I did my best to protect her but I am quite old and she is young and far more clever than most people give her credit for.  Especially her father and that pig fiancé he chose for her.  If there was a way out then she found it.”

 

“And Tamara?  Where can I find her?”

 

“She is no longer the Fairy Godmother for Maurice’s Kingdom.  I was serving tea once while the King was meeting with the Blue Fairy, before Belle was even born.  She said Tamara would now serve King George’s family.  Perhaps he can assist you.”

 

For once, fortune was shining on him!  He could kill two birds with one stone!  He could have the bastard Prince James killed and replaced with his twin brother for a price.  And he now knew exactly what that price would be.

 

“Thank you for your assistance, Nunzia,” he said sincerely, ending her immobilizing jinx.  “I will have to erase your memories of our little conversation now, but rest assured.  I will find a way to help Belle.”

 

She clasped her hands together and rung them.  “If you really want to help her then you would release her.  Give her the opportunity to find her true love and live her life.  Give Belle her best chance.” 

 

Her best chance; it certainly wasn’t being trapped in the Dark Castle with a monster for the rest of her life.

 

He dismissed the thought from his mind.  Now was not the time.  “Lie down on the bed and close your eyes. When you awake, you will have no memory of last hour.  As a token of my gratitude, I will make your hearing and sight permanent.”

 

“Thank you,” she said, surprised.  She slowly climbed into her tiny bed and struggled with the thin blanket.  “You know, you’re not as evil as the clerics make you out to be.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin laughed shrilly.  “If those fools wish to seek out true evil they need look no farther than their own ranks.  But you will not remember that in a few moments.”

 

He passed his hand over her withered face and her eyes immediately began to droop.  Suddenly another question pushed to the forefront of his thoughts.  “Nunzia?” he asked softly, before sleep could overtake her.  “Are you the one who taught Belle how to make tea?”

 

“Yesssssss…” she said, falling into oblivion.

 

He smiled at the old crone and waved his hand over her once more.  When she awoke she would find she is no longer plagued by the crippling pain of arthritis. 

 

It was the least he could do.  Belle does, after all, make the best cup of tea he has had in over four hundred years.

 

He was certainly going to miss it.


	8. The Right Thing To Do

The sun was shining brightly in the Great Hall as Rumpelstiltskin stared sullenly out the uncovered window.  His heart was heavy with the task he needed to perform.  Still, he had delayed it for hours, too afraid to carry it out.

 

Rumpelstiltskin was a coward after all, and always would be. 

 

That’s why he could never be worthy of his Belle. 

 

“I brought you some tea, Rumple,” she said shyly, her cheeks once again rosy in health.  She smiled so earnestly at him that he could not refuse, even though his stomach couldn’t possibly accept any nourishment right now.  “You’ve been so kind to me, bringing me back from death’s door and all.  I just wish there was some way I could repay you.”

 

“It’s no matter, dearie,” he said softly, refusing to look her in the eye.  “The place would be filthy without my maid around to tidy up after me.”

 

She snickered and playfully pushed his arm with her own.  “I think you would be lonely without me around.  Any man would be, I imagine; living in this grand castle all by yourself.”

 

He took a tentative sip of his tea and looked down to his feet.  “I’m not a man.”

 

“You fathered a child!  That’s quite an impressive feat for a woman, don’t you think?”

 

Rumple snorted into his tea.  “That’s not what I meant, dearie.”

 

“I know!” she laughed.  She hopped onto the long dining table and swung her feet about absentmindedly.  Her brows knitted together and her voice turned serious.  “Tell me about him.  Your son.  What happened to him?”

 

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  This was it, the perfect opening.  He had to do it.  Do the brave thing and bravery will follow. 

 

“Tell you what.  I’ll make you a deal.  Go into town and fetch me some straw.  When you return, I’ll share my tale.”

 

“Town?” she sputtered.  “You…you trust me to come back?”

 

“Oh, no.  I expect I’ll never see you again.”

 

 

…

 

 

 

He watched her departing form from his tower window, feelings of relief and abject sorrow battled for dominance in his heart.  Relief that she now had her best chance to find happiness in the world, to find her True Love and break her curse; sorrow because he was now watching his only friend in this wretched land walk away. 

 

It was probably the first act of purity he had performed since becoming the Dark One.  He couldn’t keep her locked away as though she were one of his trinkets, one of his possessions.  She was so much more than that.

 

It was then that he realized the profound truth; she was _his_ True Love! 

 

Who would have guessed?  The monster within had finally learned to love.  And yet he continued to watch her walk away from him.  He could not stop her; did not want to stop her.  For who could ever learn to love a beast?

 

She reached the bend in the winding road and disappeared from view.  She was gone.  Gone forever and she was never coming back.  It was for the best, he told himself.  He had to do what was best for her.

 

Still, he felt no shame as the tears began to fall down his scaled cheeks.  Summoning his favorite tea cup to his hand, he carefully stroked the broken rim.  It was a fitting metaphor; she had chipped away at his heart until he could never be made whole again, just like his cup. 

 

And yet, he would prefer being broken as long as it kept the memory of her alive.  She now had a new place in his heart; the place previously reserved just for Bae.  They were a bittersweet reminder that all magic comes with a price. 

 

Monsters were not meant to have happy endings, after all.

 

Cradling the precious cup to his heart, he curled into a ball underneath the window and sobbed.

 

 

…

 

 

The sunlight travelled across the tower floor, marking the hours since his beloved had left.  He had not moved once since collapsing against the dusty stonework.  There was no point in moving.  She was gone now, on her way back to the Marshlands, or perhaps to seek out adventure like the heroines in her treasured books.  Maybe she would encounter a handsome Prince on her journey. 

 

The thought cut through his heart like a sharp blade.

 

A gust of wind blew through the open window, its slight chill rousing him from his dark thoughts.  He had to stop thinking about her.  And yet, if he listened carefully enough, he swore he could hear the soft _click clack_ of those ridiculous shoes on the cobbled path leading up to his castle. 

 

He stood up and warily looked outside. 

 

There she was, her arms heavy with straw!  He backed away, dazed.  She came back!  She had come back to him!  He then did something no other Dark One in the history of the world had ever done before: he ran down the tower steps like a giddy, lovesick fool.

 

He didn’t care.  She had come back.

 

He was seated at his spinning wheel when the ancient double doors opened, revealing a rosy cheeked Belle.  She smiled as she walked in and placed her traveling cloak over his chair.

 

“Oh!  Back already?” he asked casually.  “Good.  Good thing.  I was just about out of straw.”

 

“Hmph!” She grinned mischievously as she placed the basket in front of him.  “Admit it! You’re happy I’m back.”

 

“I’m not unhappy,” he said teasingly.

 

_I haven’t not missed you._

 

He had said those words to Nighttime Belle the night he had tried to awaken her, foolishly thinking she was sleepwalking.

 

But she hadn’t been sleepwalking.  She was cursed.  That’s why he sent her away in the first place.  The joy he felt at her return suddenly dissipated as he realized that nothing had changed.  He had to make her understand leaving was her best chance. 

 

Belle boldly took the string out of his hand and gently touched his shoulder.  “ _You_ promised me a story.”  She sat down at his wheel and looked up at him earnestly, placing a warm hand on his thigh.  “Tell me about your son.”

 

His heart broke at the mention of Bae.  What had happened to Baelfire was a secret, known only to him.  He had never revealed his son’s fate to anyone.  But if it kept Belle away, if it helped her see the monster that dwelled within him, then so be it.

 

“Baelfire.  That was his name.”  He took a deep breath and felt her hand squeeze his leg lightly.  “He was such a good boy, such a gentle soul.  All he wanted was for his father to be rid of the Dark One’s curse, so that we could be together like before.  So he sought out the Rheul Gorm to help him.”

 

Belle frowned.  “Who?”

 

“You’ve probably heard her referred to as the Blue Fairy.  She told him that the only way I could be rid of the darkness was to travel to a land without magic.  So she gave him a magical bean, the last of its kind in our land.  I gave him my word I would go with him, but once the portal opened I…”

 

He choked on his words, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.  But he had to be strong.  He had to show her that he was nothing but a soulless monster.

 

“I let him go.  I am a coward, Belle.  I have been my entire life.  The darkness had taken hold of my heart and I couldn’t give up my powers.  So I let him go.  He fell through the portal.  He went to another world, all alone, one that I haven’t been able to access.  I lost him.”

 

Tears poured down Belle’s face and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.  “And since then you’ve loved no one and no one’s loved you?”

 

He hung his head down, unable to look at her.  He could not risk her seeing his love for her in his eyes.  “I’m a monster, Belle.  Monsters do not deserve to be loved.”

 

She ran her hand tenderly through his curly hair.  “You’re not a monster,” she whispered.  She cupped his head between her hands and slowly brought her face towards him.

 

No! No, no, no, no, no! he thought.  This wasn’t going to plan.  She felt sorry for him!  He didn’t want her pity!  She needed to see him for what he was.  She needed to see his _true_ darkness! 

 

“I killed my wife,” he stated coldly.

 

Her lips paused mere millimeters from his.  “What?”

 

“I killed my wife,” he repeated as he pushed her shoulders away.  “I ripped her heart out of her chest and crushed it between my fingers.”

 

Belle’s lips trembled as she sputtered her words.  “But…but…why?”

 

“Because I could,” he said harshly, sneering.  “That’s who I really am, Belle.”

 

“No!” she cried.  “No it isn’t!  I see the good within you!  Why won’t you let me in?”

 

“Because I don’t want you!”

 

He stood up, knocking over his stool on the way to the window, and turned his back to her.  He heard her get up from his wheel and sob. 

 

Good.  She would leave him.  She would leave and never look back.  This is what he desired, what she needed.

 

A small hand reached out and touched his shoulder.  He wanted to shrug it off but he didn’t have the energy…or the will. 

 

He was broken.  He had no more fight left in him.

 

“Please, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said thickly.  “Please look at me.”

 

When he didn’t turn around she ducked under his arm and placed herself between him and the window.  She gently caressed his cheek with the back of her hand and his eyes opened reluctantly.  “I don’t care what you’ve done in your past,” she whispered.  “I love you!”

 

His lips trembled as he looked down at his beloved caretaker.  Could it be true? 

 

“No you don’t,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You can’t.”

 

“Do not tell me how I feel!” she stated, poking him hard in the chest with a finger.  “I love you and that’s not going to change, no matter what you may think!”

 

“Oh, Belle.”  He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.  How he wished he could believe her!  “You’ve been alone with me in this castle for too long.  You just think you love me because there is no one else here.” 

 

He truly believed that’s the reason why Nighttime Belle took an interest in him in the first place.  With no one else around he was her only option.  Why else would she want to share her bed with a beast?

 

“I love you because of who you are here,” she tenderly placed her hand on his chest, where his heart sat.  “Deep inside you’re just a good man who is hurting over the loss of your son.  That’s why you’ve been trying so hard to push me away.  You’re frightened of getting hurt again.”

 

An unbidden tear leaked from his closed eye and she wiped it away with her thumb.   She reached up on her toes and hovered her lips in front of his.  “Please stop pushing me away.”

 

He ached to kiss her but knew he could not.  It would undo everything!  He placed his index finger to her trembling lips and gently pushed her back.  “I’m so sorry Belle…but I cannot kiss you.”

 

She swallowed hard and looked him straight in the eye.  “And why not?”

 

“Because I’m in love with you.”

 

Her entire face lit up as she beamed brightly and took his hand in her own.  Then her brows knitted together in confusion and her smile faltered.  “I don’t understand.”

 

“True Love’s kiss, dearie,” he said as he tenderly tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear.  “If we kiss, my curse will be broken and my powers destroyed.”

 

“But isn’t that a good thing?   You’d be a man again; an ordinary man!”

 

“I’m so close, Belle.”  He had to make her understand.  “For four hundred years I’ve worked to find a way to the Land Without Magic.  And I’m almost there!  Then I can finally find my boy, my Baelfire.”

 

She threw her arms around him and laid her head in the crook on his neck.  “Then we must not kiss until we find him.”

 

“We?” he asked breathlessly. 

 

He tentatively wrapped his arms around her as well.  All the nights he had spent with her, all the passionate kisses and touches…none of them could compare to the joy of simply holding her in his arms, knowing that it was truly _her_ he was touching.

 

“Yes!  _We_!  I’m not going anywhere, Rumpelstiltskin.  So you’d best get used to it.”

 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered tenderly.  He rested his face in her hair and just breathed in her scent.  “I love you more than I could ever tell you.”

 

“Then show me,” she said, nuzzling against his throat.  A gentle flush crept up her neck and she worried her lower lip shyly.  She was so pure and innocent it was heartbreaking.   “I, uh…I know we can’t kiss but perhaps there are…other things… we could do instead?”

 

He ran his fingers through her hair and looked out the window.  The sun hovered just above the tree line.  Soon it would set below the horizon and twilight would be upon them.  “Yes, love.  There is something else we can do.”

 

She nodded her head eagerly and her face blushed scarlet.  Her fingers trembled slightly as they reached for her bodice and began to undo the black laces. 

 

His nimble fingers enclosed hers, stopping her from unlacing the corset any more.  She looked at him questioningly, confusion and hurt prominent on her face.   “I’m sorry.  I…I must have misunderstood…”

 

“Shhh, love.”  He held her face between his palms and pressed his forehead against hers.  “You may no longer be a Princess, Belle, but you are still a _lady_.  And I want to do right by you.  Will you marry me?”


	9. Hell Hath No Fury

“You may no longer be a Princess, Belle, but you are still a _lady_.  And I want to do right by you.  Will you marry me?”

 

She gasped and threw herself around Rumpelstiltskin’s neck.  “Yes!  Yes, of course I will!”

 

He held her tightly around her slim waist and swung her around.  His beloved Belle had agreed to marry him!  He couldn’t believe it.  After four hundred years of being alone, he would once again have a family.

 

“Wait!” she said, tapping him urgently on the shoulder. 

 

Had she changed her mind already?  “What is it, love?” 

 

Her lips pouted despairingly.  “Who would marry _us_?”

 

“Not to worry, sweetheart.  I’m sure there is a Bishop or two out there who owes me a favor.  Fear not.  We will marry tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?”  She reached out and caressed his chest over the silk shirt and bit her lower lip shyly.  “Why not tonight?”

 

He placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles and rubbed them with his thumb.  “Tomorrow is soon enough, love.  I must leave the castle tonight but I will be back by dawn.” 

 

“You’re leaving? Where are you going?”

 

“To prepare for our wedding, of course!  I will see you in the morning.  Sweet dreams, Belle.”

 

 

…

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t risk being in the castle tonight, not after the way she looked at him, the way she _felt_ about him.  He had no desire to be with Nighttime Belle ever again, and after tomorrow, she would no longer be an issue.   

 

It had been so tempting to break her curse right then and there, especially with her so eager!  But she deserved better than that.  She deserved to have the wedding night, the _first time_ , of her dreams. 

 

Finding a Bishop was even easier than he had let on.  Several of the most high-ranking clergymen in the Enchanted Forest had used his services once or twice.  Performing the wedding of the Dark One was a small price to pay for his continued help.  The Bishop he found had not even bothered asking if the bride was willing!  He simply wanted to clear his debt with the Spinner as quickly as possible.

 

The remainder of his night was spent at the crater where Bae had disappeared.  It had been decades since he had returned to his former home but he could not fathom re-marrying without first telling his son.

 

“You’ll love her, Bae.”  He spoke quietly, reverently, to the last place they had seen each other.  “I know she could never replace your mother but she would be so good for you…for both of us.  She makes me want to be a better man, to be the father you deserve.  We’re going to find you, son, and then we’ll be a family.  I promise.”

 

 

…

 

 

He arrived back at the Dark Castle just as the sun was rising in the East, casting a soft orange glow throughout the mountains.  He took a moment to admire the sunrise, realizing that he so rarely took the time anymore to notice the wonders of nature.

 

What a glorious day to be married!

 

His trip to the crater left by the vortex had been bittersweet but necessary.  For the first time in centuries he finally had reason to hope!  Hope that once he found Bae they could be a real family, with Belle as the glue that held them all together. 

 

As he made his way through the foyer, he noticed that the Great Hall’s double doors were left ajar.  It was odd that Belle would leave them open.  She preferred them closed at all times to keep the heat inside the most visited room in the drafty castle.  Curiosity got the better of him and he peeked his head inside.

 

The long wooden table was on its side, a few planks of wood broken free from the rest.  His glass cabinets were destroyed, as were the precious objects inside of them, shattered by the foot stool from his spinning wheel, if its broken legs were any indication. 

 

The puppets lay lifelessly on the floor while the Golden Fleece was impaled by Excalibur!  His priceless tapestries were caked in wet mud (at least, what he _hoped_ was mud!) and the severed pirate’s hand was oddly displayed making a rude gesture. 

 

Rumpelstiltskin stood rigid, too furious to move.  Who dared disturb his sanctuary?  The Dark One had as many enemies as there were stars in the night sky but few were bold enough to attack his home.  Regina, perhaps?  The Fairies?  Oh if only he had been home to catch them…

 

Belle!

 

He vanished in a puff of purple smoke and reappeared in his caretaker’s suspiciously cold chambers.  Terror filled his entire being.  If Belle had been harmed… 

 

He couldn’t even finish the thought.

 

A narrow ray of sunshine shone brightly through the part in her heavy curtains, illuminating just the bed and the small figure that slept in it.  Belle’s covered form rose and fell softly with the regulated breathing of deep sleep. 

 

He approached the bed quickly but failed to notice the rubbish discarded throughout the floor.  The noise of broken glass crackling under his feet roused her from her slumber.

 

“It is only me, love,” he said hastily, as she sat up with a gasp. 

 

He magically parted the four sets of curtains, flooding the room with blinding light.  Belle quickly shielded her face with her hands, but once her eyes had a chance to adjust they widened in horror at the carnage.

 

Rumple was by her side, holding her protectively, before her screams began.   

 

Her hands were covered in a mysterious red substance that stained her bedclothes and nightgown.  The stone floor was littered with fragments of broken window panes, torn pages from books and splinters of wood from her armoire.  Her small collection of dresses was strewn across the room, most of them slit into several pieces.

 

Belle whimpered mournfully as her discolored hands clutched onto her fiancé’s vest.  He threw a blanket over her bare shoulders and rubbed her arms soothingly, trying to force some heat to her chilly skin.

 

“Is it blood?” she sputtered.

 

“No, love,” he soothed.  “It looks like paint to me.”

 

“What happened in here?” she demanded, panicking.  Her teeth began chattering uncontrollably from either the coldness of the early morning air or from shock.  “How could I not notice this?”

 

“Come, sweetheart.  We must get you someplace warm.”  Rumple helped her to stand and wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. 

 

_Nighttime Belle!_   It had to be.  She must have realized that her time was coming to an end and that the curse would be broken today.  At least Belle was not injured or ill. 

 

He would just have to come up with a plausible explanation for what happened without revealing the nature of her curse to her.  Perhaps he could tell her it was an enemy who used magic to destroy her room, merely to frighten her.  Yes, that could work.

 

He felt somewhat better by the time they reached her chamber door.  He could spin any situation to suit his…

 

_Dammit!_

 

“Rumple?” she questioned warily.  “What’s that on the walls?”

 

What indeed!  Painted on each wall from one end of the wing to the other, were names written in large, red letters. 

 

“Pay them no mind, Belle!” he insisted, clasping her against his chest. 

 

“But it looks like my handwriting!”  She moved away from his protective stance and walked the length of the hall, reading some of the names out loud.

 

“Prince James.  Geoffrey, Duke of the Highlands.  Prince Eric.  King Midas.  Lord Timothy Thompson.  Sir Richard Tremblay.  General Yanik of Mirhh…”

 

Rumpelstiltskin was rooted to the spot, unable to move.  It was the list of names of everyone Nighttime Belle had ever seduced!  There were hundreds of them, each dripping in red paint.  

 

A symbol of her lost innocence, perhaps?

 

“Rumple, I know these men!” she said, frowning.  “There are some I do not recognize but most of them I know I have met personally at least once.”  She pointed to a group of names further down the wall.  “See these men here?  They were men from my village who died in the Ogre Wars.  The man over there worked in our stables and that one was a travelling storyteller who came to the Harvest Festival two years ago.  What could this list mean?  Are these men in some sort of danger?”

 

They are now, he thought angrily.  He had the sudden urge to track down each and every one of the bastards and rip their beating hearts out of their chests! 

 

“Rumpelstiltskin, what is going on?”

 

He stomped down his anger.  Now was not the time.  “Come, dearie.  Let’s get you out of the cold.  We’ll go to my chambers.”

 

She stared transfixed at the names as he wrapped his arms around her protectively and vanished in a puff of smoke.  They reemerged in his quarters. 

 

Or rather, what was left of it.

 

His room had also been destroyed; the sheets torn to shreds, the feather mattress punctured and ripped, even the wardrobe with his clothing had not been spared. 

 

Belle’s grip on his waist tightened with an almost painful ferocity.  Her usually rosy cheeks were as pale as her white nightgown and her eyes were as round as saucers.  “It’s all right, love.  The danger is passed.  Nothing can harm you now.”

 

“But something could have!”  She rubbed her upper arms to stop her shivering as she looked around at the destruction.  “What are you not telling me?”

 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said.  She glared daggers in his direction.  “I give you my word.  This will never happen again.”

 

He took hold of her once more and together they traveled down several floors until they were safely ensconced in the warm kitchen.  Fortunately, it had been spared Nighttime Belle’s wrath.  He sat her down at the small wooden table near a roaring fire and conjured a hot bowl of soup.  “Eat.  It will help with the shock.  You need a clear head if we’re to be married today.”

 

“How can you think of marriage at a time like this?” she shouted, presenting her red-stained hands.  “I wrote those names on the wall!  You can’t deny it!”

 

She pushed the soup aside and paced the small room.  “Does this have something to do with my mysterious illness?  And why you left the castle last night?”

 

“Dearie…”  Rumple had no idea how to respond.  If she knew the truth it would devastate her.  But if he tried to keep her in the dark she would jump to her own conclusions.  She was the cleverest person he had ever met.  If someone could figure it out on her own, she could.

 

He sighed heavily.  “Remember when you told me your servant accused you of sleepwalking and locked you in your room at night?”

 

She nodded hesitantly.

 

“Well…in a way, she was correct.  You wake up at night and have no memory of it the next day.   I think perhaps you were nervous about our upcoming nuptials and acted out subconsciously.  Fear not.  I firmly believe that once we are married these feelings will disappear and we can have our happily ever after.”

 

“Why do I have the feeling you’re lying to me?” she asked suspiciously.

 

“Everything I’ve told you has been the truth,” he replied.  At least, as much as he could reveal.

 

“Rumpelstiltskin, if we’re going to be married you need to treat me as your equal.”  She caressed his cheek tenderly and looked him straight into the eye.  “If something is wrong with me I _need_ to know!”

 

“Belle, you are perfect,” he whispered, leaning into her touch.  “There is nothing wrong with you.” _Just Nighttime Belle!_

 

“Please, Rumple,” she whispered.  “Let’s not start our new life together with half-truths.  Why did I become ill?  Why did I write those names on the walls?”

 

He exhaled noisily.  She was now his one weakness.  He couldn’t deny her anything.  “Please sit down, Belle.  We have a lot to discuss.”

 

She did as he asked, grasping a hot cup of tea for warmth.  She ran her finger over the chipped rim and waited for him to begin. 

 

“Your father angered a temperamental fairy before you were even born.  She created a curse that began on your sixteenth birthday, giving you another persona at night.  This Nighttime personality would then…seduce any man that you found attractive.”

 

Belle blanched at the news.  “The names on the wall?”

 

“I believe they are the names of everyone she has ever been…intimate with.” 

 

Her features crumbled in despair.  She began rocking back and forth, her blue eyes shiny with unshed tears.  Suddenly, she covered her mouth with shaking hands and screamed into them.  The muffled sound was the most heartbreaking noise he had ever heard in his life.

 

“Shhh, Belle.  It’s okay.”  He wrapped his arms around her to quell the shaking but she jerked out of them violently.

 

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed.  “How can you even look at me?  I’m ruined!  I’m…I’m nothing but a worthless whore!”

 

“Belle, darling, _you_ have never done anything.  _She_ was the one who seduced and slept with those men.  You are still innocent.”

 

“Did you see how many names there were on that list?  It seems I lost my innocence long ago.”  She stood up from the table and turned her back to him.  “I am…unworthy of your love, Rumple.  We can never marry now.”

 

“Unworthy?” he spat.  Rage and fear bubbled to the surface.  “If anyone is unworthy of love it is _me_!  Yet you do love me.  You saw past my curse, past all my transgressions, and saw who I really am, deep down.  How could you ever doubt my love for you?”

 

“Because I’m a slut!” she hollered.  “A tramp!  A harlot!  You never gave your body away to hundreds of strangers!”

 

“No, I just manipulated them, took advantage of their troubles to suit my own needs, killed them in some instances!”  He approached her slowly and tenderly laid his hands on her shoulders, his lips hovering around her ear.  “I love you, Belle.  Please don’t think less of yourself.  This could be a fresh start for both of us.”

 

She turned around to face him, her face wet with tears.  “How is it you know about all of this?”

 

He looked down at his feet, not able to meet her eyes.  “She came to me as well.  When I rejected her advances, you became deathly ill. I almost lost you.  When you were ill a second time I sought out your elderly servant, Nunzia, and got the rest of the tale.  This curse will only break once you make love to your True Love during the day.”

 

“Wait!  You rejected me?” she asked thickly.  More tears fell from her beautiful blue orbs.  “You didn’t want me?”

 

“Oh, sweetheart!” his heart broke at the sight of her tears.  “You were cursed.  I wanted _you_ , darling.  Nighttime Belle is a pale comparison to you.  She is nothing!”

 

“So we have never…?” Belle gestured with her hands, leaving the rest unsaid.

 

How does he answer that?  “ _We_ have never done anything.”

 

“But you were with _her_ , weren’t you?”  Nothing ever seemed to get by his Belle.

 

“Yes,” he whispered, staring at the floor.  “The first time, I naturally assumed it was you.  But when you didn’t remember the next morning I knew something was wrong.  When she came to me again, I refused and you became ill.  She said if I wanted to keep you safe I had to go along with it.  But I soon realized I was in love with you, and I couldn’t do it anymore.  Then you became ill a second time.”

 

“That’s why you sent me away?”

 

“I wanted to protect you from me, give you your best chance to find love and break your curse.  I never thought you could actually care for me.”

 

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.  She laughed thickly, her voice cracking from the tears.  “We are quite the pair, Rumpelstiltskin!  Both cursed, both feeling unworthy of the other.”

 

“You really do deserve someone much better than I, Belle,” he insisted.

 

“Well, from what I saw of that list, I was already with the some of the most powerful, most handsome men in the Enchanted Forest, and you were the only one noble enough to let me go.  I don’t think anyone is more deserving than you.”

 

Hope began to swell in his heart once more.  “Does this mean the wedding is back on?”

 

She smiled brilliantly through the tears.  “It’s going to take me a while to come to terms with all of this, but I think that with your love and support I will be fine.  So yes!  We will still marry!”

 

Oh, how he wished he could kiss those lips!  Instead he held her close and just basked in her love.

 

“However, you will have to use your magic to fix all the damages _she_ caused,” Belle added, her voice muffled from his chest.  “There’s no way I’m cleaning up someone else’s mess on my wedding day.”


	10. True Love

The table in the Great Hall was temporarily relocated to another part of the castle and replaced with a long white carpet covered in red rose petals.  A garden trellis overgrown in ivy stood prominently where his most precious items were usually displayed.  Gone was the severed hand of the despicable Killian Jones, the peasants-turned-puppets, the sword Excalibur, and the Chalice. 

 

Today was not about the possessions he lived with.  It was about the treasure he could not live without.

 

Belle had said she was fine wearing her blue dress but he would not hear of it.  He insisted she wear the traditional white, the color of purity.  Nighttime Belle may have given away her virginity long ago, but to him, she still had her virtue. 

 

As far as he was concerned, he would be her first.

 

Her off-the-shoulder white silk gown was embroidered with roses made from his own gold thread and beaded with delicate pearls from the bottomless ocean.  Her hair was arranged simply but elegantly with just a few pins to keep the wavy tresses out of her eyes and her makeup was kept simple. 

 

She was without a doubt the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

 

The ceremony was short but sweet, each of them promising their continued love and devotion, no matter what life threw their way.  Instead of the traditional kiss, they chose instead to hold the other’s hand to their hearts and touched their foreheads together.

 

Once the Bishop was vanished back to his monastery with a purse full of gold thread, Rumpelstiltskin bewitched several musical instruments to play.  His turned to his bride and bowed.  “Would my wife care to dance?”

 

She giggled and curtseyed to her groom.  “Of course, my husband.”

 

He held her tenderly at the waist and led her around the Hall.  “I’m sorry your father wasn’t here for you today, Belle,” he whispered in her ear.

 

“That’s all right, love,” she replied, leaning into his chest.  “Somehow I don’t think this was the wedding he had always pictured for me.”

 

“Was it everything you had hoped?” he asked nervously.  There was so much his magic could do, but even more that it could not. 

 

“It was absolutely perfect.  Thank you for giving it to me.  I love you.”

 

There was nothing more difficult than not being able to kiss his wife!  He held her more tightly, running his fingertips up and down her back.  She burrowed her face into his neck and stifled a yawn. 

 

He giggled softly.  “It is not even noon and yet you’re yawning!  Am I boring you already, little wife?”

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled tiredly.  “I feel as though I’ve been up all night.”

 

Their dancing halted as they both absorbed her words.  Belle may have been dormant all night but her body had not.  It had taken a considerable bit of magic on his part to repair all the damages Nighttime Belle had caused throughout their castle. 

 

Clearing his throat loudly, he ran his hand down the length of her body and scooped her up behind her knees.  He held her as he did the day she fell off the ladder, only this time she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Would my wife care to rest for a bit?”

 

“Perhaps.  If my husband were to join me, of course.”  A gentle flush crept up her throat and spread to her cheeks.  She nibbled on her lower lip and looked to him shyly.  “Your chambers or mine?” she whispered.

 

“How about ‘ours’?” he asked as he carried her up the stairs.  “I thought it fitting that since we are starting a new life together we should begin on equal ground.”

 

He couldn’t bear the thought of being with his beloved Belle in the same bed he had slept with her other personality.  No, he wanted no reminders of his time with _her_.  This was their chance at a fresh start.

 

“What do you think, love?” He put her down and stood behind her, gently grasping her shoulders.  “Will it do?”

 

Their new room was in the West Wing with several large windows facing the snow-capped mountains.  A fire crackled merrily in the great stone hearth engraved with roses, enveloping the room in gentle warmth.  The large four post bed was draped in blue curtains, the exact shade of Belle’s eyes, and adorned with more of Rumpelstiltskin’s gold thread.  A tall bookcase filled with all of her favorite tomes sat next to new chaise across from yet another spinning wheel. 

 

It was the perfect amalgamation of both of them. 

 

“It’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, reaching behind her to take his hands in hers.  “Thank you so much.”

 

He bent down slightly and placed a small kiss on her exposed shoulder.  He kissed her again and again, slowly working his way toward her neck. She sighed deeply and tilted her head, giving him better access to her throat. 

 

His tongue gently danced across her skin as his fingers caressed up and down her arms.  She shivered at his touch.  “Is this to your liking, my wife?”

 

She swallowed audibly before replying.  “Yes.  I just…I’m afraid you’ll have to be patient with me.”  Her head hung low and she squeezed his hand.  “I don’t really know what to do.”

 

“I can teach you,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her front in an embrace.  “There is no shame in being innocent, Belle.”

 

She turned around to face him and began slowly undoing the buttons of his fine silk shirt.  He in turn undid the knot of her bodice and gently pulled the strings loose.  “We can take things as slow as you’d like, love.  We have the rest of our lives.”

 

As much as he wanted to rid her of the dangerous presence of Nighttime Belle immediately he would not pressure her to do anything she wasn’t prepared to do.  The last thing he wanted was for her to look back at her ‘first time’ with regrets. 

 

“No, Rumpelstiltskin.  I think we’ve waited long enough.  Don’t you?”

 

With a firm tug her gown pooled around her ankles, revealing her in all her splendidness.  Her blush was not reserved for just her face, but continued all the way down to her navel.  She nibbled on her bottom lip but looked him straight in the eye, showing no fear. 

 

His beautiful, brave Belle! 

 

“You are the most striking woman in the all the lands, my love,” he said hoarsely. 

 

She caressed his chest and moved her hands up to his shoulders, pushing the garment down his arms.  His shirt quickly joined her dress on the floor.  He twitched uncomfortably as she gazed at his bare torso. 

 

“Hmm,” she said, running her finger across his ribs.  “Just as I had always suspected.”

 

“What?” he said, frowning.  Milah had often said he wasn’t much to look at, back when he was human, and the greenish gold tint did nothing to enhance his slim form.

 

“You, sir, are unquestionably handsome.”  She tickled his ribs teasingly and it took all his strength not to laugh.

 

She leaned forward and wickedly spread soft kisses across his chest and even dared to taste his skin with her tongue.  She giggled impishly.  “Your skin feels so different than I imagined it would. I thought the texture would be rough or scaly but instead it’s almost as smooth as mine, just glittery.”

 

“Oh?  I must compare for myself now, mustn’t I?”  He bent down and once again scooped her into his arms.  This time he carried her only a few feet to the raised bed where he gently laid her down amongst a dozen pillows.  He caught her gaze and spoke to her softly.  “May I, Belle?”

 

She grinned timidly and nodded her permission.  He started at her palm, the most innocent of body parts.  His lips pressed deeply against the soft flesh of her inner wrist then slowly moved his way up, lavishing every inch of her milky white arm.

 

Her chest rose and fell quickly with every touch of his lips, to the point where she was panting heavily by the time he reached the pulse point on her throat.  He gently caressed the side of her face as he ravished her neck with his tongue and claimed the tip of her earlobe into his mouth.

 

Belle’s eyes fluttered closed and the gasp that escaped her lips was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.  She entwined her fingers with his and squeezed tightly as his tongue slid across her collarbone and investigated the other side of her neck. 

 

He leaned over her, keeping all his weight on his elbows and knees.  His chest pressed against her bosom lightly and his leather clad leg wrapped over her bare one.  She playfully grazed her other foot up his leg to the crook of his knee.  Rumple felt himself harden at the contact but continued lavishing attention to her neck.

 

There would be time for that.  There would be time for everything. 

 

His free hand stroked her side tenderly, starting near her back and moving slightly forward with every pass, until his fingers teasingly grazed the side of her breast.  Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingertips fluttered across her flesh to the soft nipple, stroking it until it became taught in his grasp.

 

She moaned appreciatively as he cupped the entire breast in his hand and took it in his mouth.  His weathered lips clasped around it while his tongue flicked the hardened bud.  “Gods, Rum!” she cried out.

 

Hearing Belle, _his_ Belle, cry out his name like that, with such uncontrollable passion, made his loins twitch uncomfortably against his breeches.  It was amazing what power she had, that she could undo him with a single word.

 

He reluctantly removed his mouth from her breast and brought it back to her neck. Oh, how he wished he could lock lips with her!  This was turning out to be more difficult than he ever imagined.

 

He was running his hand over her torso, admiring the smoothness of her porcelain skin around her slim waist, when she suddenly pushed him away by his shoulder.  He immediately stopped all movement and waited nervously for her to tell him she had changed her mind.  “Belle?”

 

She pushed him down onto his back and smiled coyly at him.  “May I?” she asked shyly.

 

Once he nodded his assent, she knelt next to him and claimed his wrist with her lips.  She mimicked all of his actions, although her movements were more hesitant and a little sloppy. 

 

It was absolute bliss!

 

Belle had always been a quick learner and this was no different.  She repeated every kiss and lick he had bestowed upon her, changing her movements slightly based on his responses.  He moaned a bit more deeply as her teeth nipped his ear than he had when she had sucked on his nipple, so she lavished his other lobe with far more fervour. 

 

Her nubile body laid over his bare chest as she continued ravishing his neck.  He dotingly stroked both of his hands over her back, basking in the overwhelming feelings of love. 

 

He had never before realized the power of True Love.  He knew now just how empty his marriage to Milah had been; how cold she had been to him, both in life and in their marriage bed.  The joy he now felt was nothing like he had imagined!

 

A gentle hand slid down his stomach.  The feel of a single finger running across the waist of his pants brought his mind back to the present.  He grinned into her ear as his nimble fingers grasped the wandering limb and brought it to his lips for a chaste kiss.  “Not yet, love.  There is so much more to experience first.”

 

He turned her unto her back and briefly touched his forehead to hers, wishing desperately that he could kiss her on her lips.  Instead he pressed his lips to her temple and lingered a moment, enjoying the scent of her hair.

 

“I love you, Belle,” he whispered.  “If you want me to stop at any time, just say so.  I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“I trust you, Rumple,” Belle moaned softly.  “Please don’t stop.”

 

He tenderly caressed her face and nipped her earlobe once more before moving further down the bed.  Taking her tantalizing breast into his hot mouth once more, he began slowly stroking her stomach and moving ever lower.

 

Once arriving at her triangle of scruffy curls, he veered off course and rubbed her inner thigh instead.  He wanted her to get used to the feel of his touch so he took his time, his fingers moving in concentric circles, ever closer to her sex but never quite reaching it. 

 

Belle’s breathing was ragged now and her teeth bit down hard on her bottom lip.  Once his index finger carefully grazed the delicate folds of her center she gasped loudly and jerked in his embrace. 

 

She was so responsive! 

 

“Touch me there again!” she called out hoarsely.

 

“I’ll do that and more, love,” he promised. 

 

Using several digits this time, he gently rubbed her opening, marveling at the moisture that surrounded it.  Her arousal was undeniable.  Belle _wanted_ him! 

 

He peppered her torso with quick kisses as he inched his body lower on the bed.  After gently prying her legs apart, he nestled himself between them and ran his tongue over her thighs.  His fingertips fluttered over her body, letting her know which direction he was heading so not to catch her off guard.

 

When his tongue lapped at her folds she cried out, grabbing a fistful of his hair and holding him in place.  Like he would ever want to leave!  She tasted as exquisitely as he remembered and he greedily sought out more. 

 

He playfully nipped at the hard nub that he knew brought her so much pleasure.  Her clit swelled from his ministrations as she writhed underneath.  He ever so gently encircled her core with a finger, going deeper with every pass until he finally penetrated her soft walls.  Once inside, he carefully crooked his digit upward like he was taught and grazed the sponge like button. 

 

The response was immediate.

 

Belle jerked in his arms and moaned instinctively.  Smiling to himself, he added another finger and moved in and out, releasing more of her heavenly juices.  She was so wet!  Her taste was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough. 

 

“I love you, Rumpelstiltskin!” she whispered between gasps.  Her vicelike grip on his head was almost painful but he welcomed it; it took his mind off of his throbbing erection, which was digging sorely against the bed.

 

She spread her legs apart a bit more and his knuckles pounded lightly against her folds as he entered her.  “Please,” she groaned.  “Harder.  And faster.”

 

He immediately complied, increasing the pace and force of his movements.  Her head fell against the pillows and her eyes rolled back.  Her breath came out in gasps now, unable to keep up.

 

“Rum…I need…I need something…” she panted.  “I don’t know what.” 

 

She writhed uncontrollably on the bed as his hand penetrated her deeply.  “You!  I need _you_! Now!  Please!”

 

How could he deny such a request?

 

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of his clothing disappeared.  Grasping his engorged member firmly in hand, he quickly entered her moist core.  She cried out in ecstasy and planted her feet into the crook of his knees, thrusting her hips up to take in more of him. 

 

His movements started out slow and deep but quickly increased in pace as her hips grinded against his, urging him on.  She seemed to prefer hard, fast thrusts and that was all right with him. 

 

He greedily claimed her neck and sucked on it as hard as he could.  Her moans were more than enough encouragement to continue as he quickly felt himself building up.  She raised her legs up to change the angle slightly and he found himself placing her ankles up on his shoulders.  The new position must have brought her all sorts of wonderful sensations because her cries became one long continuous moan.

 

Her walls clenched tightly around his cock as a new warmth overtook him.  The strength of her orgasm overwhelmed him and he came immediately. 

 

The force of their combined climax knocked the breath out of both of them as the air seemed to shimmer around their joined bodies. 

 

The broken Curse sent a shockwave of power throughout the land, reaching every corner of the Enchanted Forest.

 

“What was that?” asked Belle breathlessly.

 

Rumple dropped onto the bed beside her and gathered her heated body into his waiting arms.  “That, my love, was the end of Nighttime Belle.  She can no longer control you.  You are free.”

 

She threw her arms around his neck and let the tears fall down her cheeks.  “Thank you!  And not just for breaking my curse.  For the first time in my life, I have no words to describe what I’m feeling.  It was…truly beautiful.”

 

“It was True Love, Belle.  There is nothing more beautiful or powerful than that.”

 

A gentle flush crept up her throat into her cheeks and she shyly nibbled on her bottom lip.  “I never knew making love could be so incredible.  You were an amazing teacher.”

 

“Oh, my beautiful, wonderful Belle,” he whispered, cupping her heaving breast into his hand.  “Our lessons have only just begun.”


End file.
